Famous Last Words
by Magic Of Every Kind
Summary: Miranda thought life was done throwing bad luck her way – all good things to those who wait, right? Apparently not. Just when she thinks the worst is over, Magneto takes her sister for the power she wields. Alone, Miranda is a fish out of water. But with help from a certain speedster…she can get back her sister, and so much more. After all – every cloud has a silver lining...
1. Chapter 1

**Well hello there, reader...you appear to have taken an interest in my story, hmm?**

**I don't like waffling so here's the low-down of the show-down.**

**If you're new to my work please take note - I don't do Mary-Sues, lemony smut, or AUs. I do realistic characters, thoughtful relationships, and canon compliant plot-lines. Dear little Mary-Sue meeting beloved characters in a High School AU is cute and all...but I don't do that kind of thing. My stories are real, gritty, and not always pleasant. You have been warned.**

**I love X-Men, always have and always will. I've had the character of Miranda in my head for a while, and the new movie gave me the motivation I needed to finally write down her story. It's sad and just a little bit cliche, with what I hope is the right amount of drama and adventure with just a little bit of romance sprinkled in for good measure. I hope you like it.**

**This story is set after X-Men: Days of Future Past but there are no plot spoilers in this chapter...and if you haven't seen the movie yet, go now. You will not regret it.**

**I've blathered on long enough...so much for no waffling. So, dear reader...I give you 'Famous Last Words' by me, Magic of Every Kind.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 1

_The grass is always greener the other side of the fence_

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London - England - 1973

"Miranda? Miranda?!" I tore my gaze from the fish tank and turned back to face the two adults before me, a middle aged woman and a young man, both watching me from the opposite side of the desk with a mixture of expectation, irritation, and just a little sympathy. The man clasped his hands together,

"Have you heard a word we've been saying?" he asked bluntly. I looked him in the eye.

"Yes. My father is dead, so is my mother, and my step-mother. You're selling our house and all our possessions, but because you can't sell me or my sister you're sending us away to live with an aunt we've never met in a country we've never been to." A brittle silence greeted my words and I realised how harsh and ungrateful I sounded. I bowed my head. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

"It's alright, Miranda," the woman tried to reassure me, "I know how…"

"Please…don't," was all I said, softly, and thankfully she got the message. She closed her mouth, but her eyes carried on talking, and I had to look away. I was getting so sick and tired of people offering me condolences and sympathies, and telling me how brave I was being, and how sorry they were that I'd lost so much at so young an age…

"You'll stay in the home until we've finalised the paperwork," the man went on as if nothing had happened, "and then you and your sister will be put on a plane to Washington D.C, where your aunt will meet you and take you to your new home. You'll have the summer to settle in before you start school, and someone will be over to visit in November to make sure you're happy. Do you understand?" I just nodded. The woman leaned forward,

"We will do everything we can to make sure the transition is smooth and easy for you both," she told me kindly, then stopped abruptly which let me know she's been about to voice yet another round of sympathies. I smiled thinly.

"Do you want us to tell your sister or…?"

"I'll do it," I interrupted, swallowing, "I'll tell her." The man and the woman exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. Then they nodded in unison,

"Very well, she's waiting outside. And we'll be here if you have any further questions." I inclined my head in a half-hearted display of gratitude before I got up and left the office without another word. Outside there were a few seats and potted plants, but there was no-one around except a young girl lying on the floor, colouring with crayons. My heart warmed at the sight of her – my sister, so young, so naïve, and so blissfully ignorant. Now it was up to me to bring her down from her cloud to the harsh, real world. I went over to her, nudging her gently with my foot,

"Bella," her name caught in my throat, a little strangled, and I hastened to cough to cover my tracks. She didn't seem to notice, looking up at me with her bright blue eyes that widened in delight as they fixed upon me. She jumped up, her plait whipping about as she grinned, revealing a gap where she'd lost another front tooth.

"Look, Manda!" she held out the sheet of paper she'd been colouring on, "I drew us!" I took the drawing from her, studying it intently. My heart skipped a beat.

It was a simple picture, depicting what could only be a fox on green grass, with the sun shining behind it. The fox was red all over with whiskers and beady eyes, but it was smiling simply. The sun had a face on it, with big eyes and wide grin as its rays of yellow light spread out all over. I felt tears sting my eyes at the child-like innocence of it, and the beauty that only a pure heart could invoke.

"See, that's me," my sister pointed to the sun, oblivious to my stunned silence, "and that's you," she indicated the fox. I smiled weakly.

"It's wonderful, Bella," I told her, my voice croaking slightly, "I love it." I tried to give it back but she shook her head, pushing it towards me,

"No, I drew it for you." Blinking rapidly, I carefully folded the picture and slipped it into my back pocket before pulling her to one of the nearby chairs.

"We need to have a little talk, Bella," I told her as she took the seat next to me, then changed her mind and clambered onto my lap. She was only 7, but still small for her age and able to fit snugly on my knees. She smelt of milk and honey and the raspberry kid's shampoo she loved.

I racked my brains, trying to think of the best way to explain our new situation. She knew our father was dead, but her own mother had died in childbirth, and my mother passed away before she was even born, so in a way the loss was less. Ignorance is bliss, they say. Still, it didn't lighten the load I was about to place on her shoulders. An idea came to me, and I decided to run with it.

"You remember in Sleeping Beauty, when they sent Princess Aurora away to keep her safe from the witch?" I started. Bella nodded solemnly, fiddling with the end of her plait and watching me intently. "Well, you and I…we're going away." Her eyes widened significantly, and she practically whispered,

"Is there a witch after us?" I smiled in spite of myself and tapped her nose,

"No, there isn't," I paused and seemed to think seriously, "at least, I don't think so…" I let the statement hang, and Bella stared at me opened mouthed before I smiled and she realised I was joking. I chuckled as she hit me playfully on the shoulder,

"Where are we going?" she asked. I took a breath.

"To America," I told her, "to stay with our aunt in Washington D.C." Her little eyebrows rose,

"Our aunt?"

"Daddy's sister," I clarified, "you've never met her…and I only did when I was even younger than you." She nodded,

"Washington D.C. is the capital of America," she told me proudly, "everyone thinks it's New York but it isn't." I nodded,

"That's right. And it's going to be our new home. We'll live with our aunt and spend the summer with her, and then we'll go to school there in the autumn." An adorable frown creased her brow as she thought it over,

"Will we come back?" she asked. I hesitated before replying honestly,

"I don't know. Maybe…maybe not. We'll see." She stuck out her lip and thought a bit more, then smiled widely,

"Ok," she chirruped. I blinked in surprise,

"Ok?" I echoed, "you understand what's going to happen? And you're happy with it?" Maybe I was just being selfish, but I kind of hoped she'd put up more of a fight. Apparently not. She nodded brightly,

"Yep," she popped the 'p' sound, "we'll be together, won't we?" I softened, pulling her closer,

"Of course we will. I'll never leave you…I promise." She made a small noise of pleasure and for a moment we just embraced, treasuring the warmth we gave to each other. She pulled away and looked at me in confusion,

"But what about granny and grandpa?" she asked, "will we see them again?" I winced slightly.

"I don't know. The reason we're going to our aunt is because granny and grandpa are too old to look after us. Grandpa can't even climb the stairs any more. So…no, we might not see them again," I confessed. Bella didn't look too happy about that, but then she brightened,

"But we can still talk to them, right?" I held back another round of tears – nothing deterred her for long, and she always found the good in every situation. She truly was my little ray of sunshine. I nodded,

"Of course we can. I'm sure we'll have a phone in America."

"And I could phone my friends too?" she ventured. I nodded,

"Yes, you can." She beamed in pleasure.

"Miranda?" I looked up at the sound of my name to find a young woman watching us with a mixture of kindness and sympathy. I swallowed, hoping she hadn't come to give us a speech on how sorry she was etc. etc. She held out a hand, "my name's Theresa Thornton, I'm training to be a social worker here. I'm going to take you and Bella to your home so you can pack up all the clothes and toys you want to keep," she told us gently. I looked at my sister, then shrugged half-heartedly.

"Ok then," I mumbled as Bella slid off my lap, and I got to my feet, her hand automatically gravitating towards mine. I offered the woman a small smile, "we'll follow you."

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The journey to our home was short and uneventful, and when we got out the car our house stood as tall as it had ever done, looking for all the world as if nothing had happened. Except it wouldn't be our home for much longer, and soon a 'For Sale' sign would appear outside the front and new family would move in. An ache rose in the back of my throat but I shoved it down.

The social worker, Theresa, opened up the house for us and Bella went in first, and I followed close behind. The normality of the place was like a kick to the gut.

Everything was the same and nothing had changed. Father's old house keys were on the hall table beside the old fern, and our coats hung from pegs along the walls, one for each of us. The mirror with the silver frame was still chipped, and there were still scuff marks on the door mat. If I wanted to, I could pretend that father was still alive and the events of the past few weeks were nothing more than a nightmare. But that would be a lie. Father was dead, and he wasn't coming back. It was just Bella and I.

"We haven't touched anything," Theresa informed us, "and if you need help with anything, just give me a shout." Bella gave her a smile, but mine was a poor comparison. She raced up the stairs without further ado and I gestured towards the kitchen,

"Help yourself to whatever's still good to eat," I told Theresa, trying my hand at being a good hostess. But I sounded too dull and monotonous to be welcoming, and I turned away from the sympathetic smile I received from my troubles. My ascent up the stairs was slow, and with each step I found a new scent from an old time.

I could smell our family in the air. The shampoo and soap coming from the bathroom, the old book smell coming from father's old study, and my own, rusty smell mingling with Bella's sweet one. I passed by our father's room and stopped in my tracks. Pulled by an unknown force I went in. His smell hit me full in the face.

It was fresh and it was masculine and it was comforting, and if I closed my eyes I could almost imagine he was here. But underneath it all I could smell the aging, sour nature of the scent, and how it was slowly dying for want of a fresh dose. My father would never enter this room again. I looked around, my gaze snagging on a picture of me, Bella, and our father, taken a couple of years ago in the park. Bella was on a swing, laughing while her brown locks swept in the wind, our father behind her and getting ready to push her higher. I sat on the adjacent swing, motionless and expressionless but for the smallest hint of a smile about my lips. It was a picture of a time long passed, that I would never witness the like of again. Without really thinking about it, I slipped the photo from the frame and added it to the pocket where Bella's picture lay.

I left the room after that, and didn't look back.

I found Bella in our shared bedroom, already emptying her clothes onto her bed and piling them into her suitcase. I pulled my own case from under my bed and started to do the same. My clothes were significantly duller than hers, as fashion was something I had little concern for, and favoured comfort over style above all. We worked in amiable silence, even packing away our winter clothing. Some things we through on the floor to leave behind – a jumper I never wore any more, a t-shirt that was too small, socks that didn't match. Then we started on everything else, from cassette tapes to stationery, and hairbrushes to magazines. Everything we wanted to take with us got packed…but there still wasn't enough room.

Of all her stuffed toys, Bella only chose one to accompany her to America. He was a bunny, frayed and well-worn and several times sewed back together, but she'd had him since she was a baby and would never be parted from him. Despite the fact I was older, I took two of my own toys with me. A dog I'd received on my first birthday, and a fox puppet I had creatively called 'Foxy'. The others we left behind, and I tried not to think they were staring in judgment, berating us for leaving them.

Bella finished before me, having spent less time in this house than me and possessing less emotional attachment to her possessions. She left to explore the rest of the house for other things to take with her, and I was left alone. I carried on in silence, methodically discarding and packing as I saw fit. And then I found a picture of my mother.

It was old, and frayed around the edges, with black and white colouring. But it was still quite clearly my mother. It had been taken when she was very young, and had probably only just met my father. She was wearing a simple floral design dress with her hair loose around her shoulders, face tilted up and towards the camera. She was smiling prettily, giving a glimpse of glittering teeth from between her delicate lips, and her skin seemed flawless and smooth, like porcelain. People who had known her or saw a picture of her said I looked like her, but I knew they were only being kind. I was a poor copy of the beauty my mother had possessed, a simple sketch to her Mona Lisa. I had her facial structure and hair, but it was blunted and too blockish to be deemed beautiful. Pretty, maybe…but never beautiful. The only thing I truly had of hers were her eyes, but you would never be able to tell that from the photo. They were a dark green with flecks of hazel, and my father used to comment how they were like sunlight breaking through the canopy of a vast forest. On my mother they were exquisite, even from the black and white photo, but on me…grief had dulled them, and I couldn't help but wonder if they would ever shine again.

Wrenching my gaze from the photo I tucked it into my back pocket and tried to get back to work. But it was useless. Misery had a hold of me and it would not let go, and I'd been fighting it for too long. Collapsing onto my bed, I finally gave in and started to cry. It was the first time I'd cried since father died.

I let the tears fall, allowing myself this moment of depression and self-pity. In some ways I'd earned it, after all I'd been through, and still young at the tender age of 13, but that didn't stop part of me from kicking myself, demanding that I pull myself together and stop acting like some mopey teenager. I had Bella, after all, and she was my light in all this darkness. I could have lost her on the same day I lost my father, but I didn't.

I heard the door open but didn't really pay attention to the other presence until someone was curling up against me, snuggling into my shoulder. I quickly wiped my eyes and wrapped my arms around her,

"Hey," I murmured.

"Hey," she replied softly. We lay in silence for a moment, my chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. "Can I see the picture I drew?" she asked. I fumbled in my back pocket, finally finding the right one and pulling it out, unfolding it to hold out in front of us. Bella just looked at it for a moment. "I wish I could turn into a fox," she said. Taken completely by the unawares, I nearly burst out laughing.

"Trust me, it's not as cool as it sounds," I told her with a chuckle.

"What is it like?" she ventured. I thought it over for a moment. Ever since I hit puberty a few precious months ago, I'd developed…abilities. The change was subtle at first – heightened senses, an increasing love of meat, the urge to play with every animal I met – but then things began to get worse. I only realised how bad it was when I stepped out of the shower one day and looked in the mirror to find a young wet fox staring back at me in shock. For reasons unknown, I had suddenly developed the ability to change into a fox, even possessing the animal's qualities while in human form. That, and any cuts or bruises I acquired vanished within hours, sometimes minutes. I thought I was going mad until one day my father found me crying in bed and I confessed the whole thing, even demonstrating my new talent before his eyes. He was surprise, to say the least, and for a while I thought he might kick me out onto the street as a freak. But then he smiled and scooped me up into his arms, gave me a hug, and told me he loved me no matter what.

"Just, don't tell anyone else about this, ok?" he warned, "and I'll buy you some dog treats." And we'd laughed about it. We actually laughed about it. I was still scared and uncertain, but my father's acceptance made it so much easier, and I found myself learning to cope with my new abilities. I even managed to use some of them to my advantage, like being able to smell when someone was ill, or listening out for oncoming cars before crossing the street. They were simple, basic talents, but they did make life a little easier. I might even have learned to accept myself, had father not died.

"It's weird," I finally answered Bella's question, "and scary. I didn't know what was happening to me in the beginning…I thought I was crazy. But then dad found out and he made it ok." She seemed to think this over for a moment,

"Do you think I'm going to be ok?" she murmured. I looked at her from the corner of my eye and knew she was talking about her own powers. They had manifested only a few weeks ago, the day father had died. We still weren't entirely sure what she was capable of, but from what we did know, she had the power to heal herself and others. It was the only way she'd survived the car crash that took our father's life. I can't really explain the mixture of relief and regret I felt when I realised she was just like me – different. I hugged her tight,

"Of course you're going to be ok," I assured her, "and do you know why?"

"Why?" she asked. I kissed her forehead,

"Because you are my sunshine." Bella giggled and buried her head into my neck,

"Sing to me," she demanded. I smiled to myself, then began softly.

_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take, my sunshine…away."_

I sang it again, my fingers trailing absently over Bella's hair. If I could freeze this moment, make time stand still and tuck it away for safe keeping, I would do it in a heartbeat. Because here, right here and right now was where I could stay forever and never want for anything. Everything I needed was in my arms, my whole little world encased in a single ray of sunshine. My sunshine.

"I love you, Manda," my sunshine whispered. A few tears trickled over my cheeks, but I made no move to stop them or brush them away. I swallowed,

"I love you too."

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**Ok, so this is my new and improved chapter - as of June 6th - and I like it much better than the original...even if it is 10x more angsty and fluffy. **

**I still want to know if you like it - if you've reviewed before just review as a guest and post your name in the comment section. And to those who**** have just chanced upon my story, I value your opinion too!**

**After a great deal of thought and too many plot bunnies I have decided that this chapter will be a Peter/OC story - BUT - I don't do fast whirl-wind romance - I do slow, meaningful relationships that take their sweet time to get moving. If you don't like, don't read, but that's what you can expect in the coming chapters. **

**Magneto is also involved because every fairytale needs a good old fashioned villain...and they don't get more arrogant and driven than our dear friend Erik.**

**Follows + Favourites + (Reviews x 2) = Happy Author + Faster updates!**

**Your humble author,**

**Magic**


	2. Chapter 2

**I updated chapter 2 as well - as of June 6th - because I didn't like it. This chapter is better...in my opinion.**

**By the way, yes my last author's note did contain a Sherlock reference, but no, I did not get my title from My Chemical Romance - wonderful though they are. The title was actually inspired by another band - Jars of Clay - who have a song of the same name.**

**I hope you like this chapter - it has Star Wards and Magneto...what more could you want?!**

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Chapter 2

_The enemy of my enemy is my friend_

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Washington D.C. - America - 1977

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Where are we going?" I gave Bella a look, but the 11-year old only grinned at me. I sighed and shook my head, but said nothing. She carried on pestering me until we rounded the corner and came to a large group of people queued outside a particular venue. A large vinyl sign was posted above reading,

_NOW SHOWING – Star Wars: Episode IV by George Lucas._

Bella stopped, and stared, then let out a high-pitched squeal.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, "no way." I pulled out two tickets from my back pocket and waved them in her face.

"Yes way," I told her. She squealed again and launched herself at me, and I stumbled under the weight of her hug-attack, wincing only slightly at the piercing nature of her excitement.

"Thank you!" she cried, but I only smiled as we walked past the group of people queuing for tickets and straight to the front doors. I couldn't help but feel a little smug that I'd had the initiative to buy tickets before everyone else, guaranteeing us good seats and minimal waiting time. Bella was practically bouncing in joy as I handed over our tickets to the guy on the door who tore them and gave my sister a knowing smile.

"You're in for a treat," he told us before letting us in. We went in with the few others who had been clever enough to get tickets in advance and found our seats. I bought Bella a packet of Tooty Frooties and a sherbet fountain from the vendor, a packet of beef jerky for myself, and sodas for us both. We settled down as other people began filing in, and I chewed absently on my jerky, letting the smell and taste drown out all my other senses. I hated being in a crowd – the sheer number of smells everyone brought with them was nauseating. But today's performance would be a sell-out and there wouldn't be a spare chair in sight, so I had to make do. I was doing this for Bella, after all.

"Hey Wanda," my sister called cheerfully to a teenager who was climbing the stairs. She looked up at her name and caught sight of us, smiling and waving back.

"Hey Bella," she replied, giving me a smile. I quirked my mouth in response. Wanda lived a few doors down from us with her mother and brother, and while we'd never spent much time with them we always exchanged pleasantries on the street. Well, Bella did. I wasn't much of a conversationalist.

"I didn't know you liked Sci-Fi movies," Bella commented as Wanda sat diagonally across from us in the row in front. The teenager laughed, and I noticed that she was wearing all red,

"I do, actually. I find them fascinating. And my brother said this was the best one he'd ever seen," she waved a hand to the vendor where a young man with a mop of silver hair was buying ice cream. His name was Peter, I think. Bella asked Wanda about the blackbird she'd rescued a few weeks ago, and I tuned the two of them out. Wanda was only a couple of years younger than me, but from the way she acted you would think she was older. She was so mature and kind and generous…it wasn't hard to see why Bella looked up to her. But I wasn't jealous – she had her strengths, and I had mine. I took another bite of jerky as Wanda's brother came up and claimed the seat next to her, barely glancing in our direction. I didn't take it personally, after all I'd only spoken to him a handful of times and I doubt he even remembered my name.

The noise level grew as more people filled the auditorium, until finally every seat had been filled and the vendor was calling for last-minute buys. Then the screen whirred to life and a handful of cheap and cheesy adverts began to play. The more eager cinema-goers fell silent at once, but those less concerned about what to do when their car got a flat tire waited until the film certificate to end their conversations. Bella's hand found mine and squeezed it excitedly, and I squeezed back. There was silence, and then…

A sudden outburst of music made nearly everyone jump, and the 20th Century Fox logo displayed in all its glory. Then, when the music died, two lines of text appeared on the screen.

_A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…_

"I wish I had Leia's hair! And her clothes! I wish I was Leia! I want a baby wookie, don't you think they'd be so cute? And R2-D2…he's so sweet!" I listened to Bella with a suppressed smile as we filed out of the auditorium, everyone around us chatting about the movie we'd just watched and speculating on what the sequel would be like. I had to admit, I was impressed – some of those space scenes even looked real. Except for the sound, because there was no sound in space. Bella carried on blathering excitedly about the movie, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and I just let her gush and get it all out of her system. We were just about to leave the foyer when I felt a tug on my hand,

"I need to pee," Bella announced a little too loudly, and I gave her a look. She just grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes. I pointed outside,

"I'll wait on the left," I told her, and she nodded before darting between people, heading for the lady's toilets. I let myself get swept along with the crowd and out the cinema, taking up a spot on the immediate left and tucking myself against the wall so I wasn't in the way. From my back pocket I pulled a rag-eared copy of 'Jane Eyre' and flipped to my page.

Ever since my powers manifested I found it really difficult keeping myself in check, especially in a crowd environment. The sounds and smells were all so overwhelming I often found myself coughing or gagging, desperate for clean air. Unfortunately, Washington D.C. was a big city, and there were cars and people everywhere. And since not breathing was out of the question, I looked for other ways to distract myself from engaging in my more animalistic desires. I tried a multitude of things – sports, yoga, clay pottery, even knitting – but none of them worked for long, and most weren't practical. Then, one day, I happened upon a book my father had read to me as a child, and I sat down to read. It was only after I finished that I realised I hadn't noticed the smells and sounds around me, and quite a bit of time had gone by. So I tried again with another book, with similar results, and soon after I was carrying a book with me everywhere. There was just something about reading a book that made it easy to drown out the world around me, and I frequently immersed myself in a variety of exotic, fantastical lands.

'Jane Eyre' wasn't what anyone would call exotic or fantastical, but for a romantic drama penned in the mid-1800s, it was extremely well written, engaging, and actually possessed an almost ethereal quality that added a dose of the peculiar to the tale. That, and I liked Jane Eyre as a character. Too many heroines were like Princess Leia in the movie we just watched – beautiful, wealthy, warrior princesses – but Jane was different. She was plain, poor, and humble. And yet her story managed to be one of the most inspiring I'd ever read.

I felt something stir in the air, and the hairs on the back of my neck shot upright for no apparent reason. I immediately became alert. They said that dogs could sense when natural disasters were imminent, and some could even be trained to smell seizures on a person before they had them. If there was one thing I'd learned to trust, it was my ability to anticipate negative occurrences and try and stop them at any cost. I was already pushing off from the wall, making to go back into the cinema – Bella was my first priority, and I had to find her. I was pushing through the crowd, nearly inside, when I heard it.

There was a loud 'bang' and then the sound of screaming, and the door to the girl's toilets was suddenly flung open as women came pouring out. Over the crowd I tried to make out Bella among them, but everyone else had stopped and turned to look and people's heads were in the way. I went onto my tip-toes, looking for my sister's brown locks.

Some of the women who'd come out were wet, as if they'd gotten into a water fight, and I relaxed ever so slightly when I noticed some of them were laughing. I heard people muttering around me, and someone to my right was talking about a bust drain-pipe, and I allowed myself a little relief – at least it wasn't a bomb. But I still had to find Bella.

I made noises of irritation to myself as people began moving again, and I found myself working against the flow as I shoved between them. A couple of cinema workers were already trying to cordon off the lady's toilets, but I slipped passed them and into the bathroom. The floor was wet and one of the sinks had lost its tap as water gushed everywhere…but there was no-one here. I frowned – maybe she was already outside? I couldn't help the rising insecurity in my stomach, and I tried to reason with myself that the chances Bella was in trouble were very slim. That didn't explain the stirring I felt earlier, as if something very wrong was about to happen…

I cursed under my breath and left the toilets, a little wet. The crowd had thinned considerably, but a quick glance about the foyer told me Bella wasn't here. I went outside where there were more people, but they'd begun to spread out and it was easier to tell one from the other. I still couldn't see her.

My stomach flipped in anxiety but I pushed it down, focusing on finding Bella. I sniffed the air, checking for her scent. I found it, and frowned. It was faint and mixed with everyone else, but definitely there. But it went right…when I told her I'd be on the left. I took another sniff, this time catching a trace of what smelt like metal, and…fear? I swallowed.

"Bella?" I called out, paying no attention to those who gave me funny looks, "Bella?" I received no reply. Now I was starting to panic. I whirled around on the spot, desperately searching for her with every sense I had. She was no-where to be found. "Bella!" I cried again, louder.

"Miranda?" I turned at the sound of my name and felt a spark of hope, before I realised it was just Wanda and her brother. The teenager approached with a concerned look on her face, "are you alright?"

"I can't find Bella," I told them, "she went to the loos so I told her I'd wait outside, but now I don't know where she is," my voice was a little shaky, betraying my anxiety, and Wanda smiled kindly, placing a comforting hand on my arm.

"Don't worry, Miranda," she assured me, "we'll help you." I glanced at her brother, a tall lanky guy with silver hair and clip-on ear phones. He quirked a careless smile at me, but I doubted he'd even heard what his sister had said over his music. My brow creased in doubt but I nodded anyway,

"Thank you…" I began, but then I heard something, away to my right, very faint…someone was calling my name. I reacted on instinct. Turning from Wanda and her brother I barged through passers-by, ignoring their cries of outrage as I ran towards the source of the noise. I reached the corner and looked down both sides of the road. To the left there was nothing, but to the right…

I caught another whiff of metal, and the milk and honey scent my sister took with her everywhere. I scanned the street for a sign of her, but all I saw was cars and people who weren't my sister. Cars were starting up as cinema goers headed home, but I didn't take much notice of them until my eyes snagged upon a dark sliding into the driver's seat of an old Cadillac. They smelt of metal and…was that milk and honey?

"Hey!" I shouted, already moving towards them. The car started up but they were too far down the street and by the time I reached them they had already pulled away. I watched them, desperately trying to determine if Bella was in the vehicle or not. It started to turn the corner and I glimpsed brown hair and blue eyes, and my heart leapt into my throat.

Without thinking, I sprinted after the car as fast as I could, dodging a few cars coming the other way who honked at me in protest. I dived around the corner, nearly falling over in the process, and saw the Cadillac picking up speed. A face was turned towards me from the passenger's seat, a girl's face…Bella's face.

"Bella!" I cried, but they were nearly at the next junction. I cursed. I'd never catch them on foot, unless…

I glanced to my left where there was a narrow alleyway filled with bins and bags of rubbish. I looked back along the street to make sure no-one was watching before darting into the shadows. Once I was out of sight, I forced myself to calm down, and slipped my skin.

It had taken me months to work out how to change purposefully, and years to master the fine art of not getting tangled in my clothes. Because if there was one thing my abilities didn't count on, it was my clothing. The creatures I turned into – which at the moment were only a fox and Labrador – had their own fur coats and therefor had no need of clothing. Unfortunately, that meant I couldn't change back into a human without being left a little…exposed. But modesty was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

Free of my clothes, I jumped out of the alley and restarted my pursuit of the Cadillac. My senses as a human, while sharper than most, were heightened considerably when I slipped my skin, and my nose was my biggest asset. There was a reason dogs were so useful in hunting and tracking – their nose was like a compass, always pointing them in the right direction. It didn't take me long to pick up the scent of metal, milk and honey, and I was off.

Being a fox had its advantages. People didn't look twice at you, most other animals wanted nothing to do with you, and you always knew where the best food was at. Regardless, I kept a low profile, scurrying along the pavement like a red shadow, nose almost touching the ground as I followed my sister's smell. I finally caught sight of the Cadillac again as it was waiting at some traffic lights, and I approached carefully, trying to get a better look in the passenger's window.

My sister was sitting stiff and upright, and she was crying, her cheeks red and her eyes puffy. She was looking out the window, trying to get the attention of passers-by, but no-one was looking. I let out a whine, wanting to move forward and get to her, but even with all my talents I couldn't take on a car as a fox, let alone open a door handle with my teeth. At the last moment her gaze fell upon me, and her eyes lit up in hope and relief. She mouthed my name, and I nodded, but the car was already moving away again. Feeling emboldened, I gave chase.

By the time the car finally began to slow down I was beginning to tire, but nothing in the world could make me leave Bella and so I ploughed on relentlessly. The Cadillac finally stopped outside an old, abandoned warehouse, and I crouched in some shrubbery as I waited to see what would happen. The car driver got out, and from the smell of them it was a man, probably in his mid-forties, with the most peculiar metal scent that seemed to radiate off him in waves. In his hand was a small case of some sort, but I didn't dare think about what it contained. I dismissed him without much thought – whoever he was, he'd messed with the wrong girl, and for that he was going to pay.

He moved to the passenger side and opened the door, gesturing for my sister to get out. She did so, tentatively, and I could tell from her posture she was trying to be brave. But the fear coming off her was almost palpable in the air, and I growled low in anger. The man nudged Bella towards the warehouse and she stumbled slightly before righting herself, obediently moving away of her own accord. Her captor followed close behind, a hand hovering near her back as warning, ensuring she didn't try to run. My lips pulled back into a silent snarl.

I followed them into the warehouse, careful to keep my distance and stick to the shadows. Thankfully, there was a lot of debris for me to use for cover, and I managed to trail them to the other end of the building without detection. A few pigeons took off as they caught my scent, but I ignored them, focusing on different prey. The man stopped Bella beside a table and desk which to the untrained eye might look coincidental – the warehouse was full of junk, so a table and chair would go unnoticed. Only it looked a little too set up to me. With a firm hand, the man pushed my sister down onto the chair, and I used the moment to sneak behind an old TV set, only a few feet from their position. The man set his little case on the table and waved his hand in the air. The case opened. I blinked. He fiddled with the contents of the case for a moment.

"Who are you?" Bella finally demanded, her voice frail but possessing of a brittle strength. The man turned to her, and I still hadn't seen his face, hidden as it was beneath a dark and glasses. He took them off in one smooth motion and crouched so he was closer to eye level with my sister.

"My name is Magneto," he said in a smooth, cultured voice. My eyes widened in shock – Magneto. I knew that name…nearly everyone in America did! He shot JFK and had nearly killed Nixon and his entire cabinet. He was an international terrorist wanted in every civilized country for crimes uncountable. He was also a mutant…like me, and like Bella. He was a cold-blooded killer, a murderer…and he had my sister.

As complicated as that made things, my resolve remained firm – mutant or not, he had taken my sister against her will, and for that he would suffer.

"You killed JFK," Bella murmured softly, her eyes wide and frightened. Magneto smiled thinly, and I couldn't help but notice he was extremely handsome. His features were lean and chiselled, his nose sharp and his lips wide set. When he smiled, even thinly, he reminded me of a shark. A shiver travelled down my spine – why was it the bad-guys were always the most attractive?

"I've killed a lot of people, but JFK is not one of them," Magneto replied simply. My sister frowned, echoing my thoughts.

"But you were in prison, there was proof on tape and…"

"All of it a lie," Magneto dismissed casually, "I was actually trying to save JFK from the people who _did_ want to kill him, but I was unsuccessful. However, I did not bring you here to discuss that particular incident." Bella, bless her soul, looked him straight in the eye.

"You're a murderer," she said bluntly. I felt a spark of pride in me at her defiance. But Magneto just nodded, unperturbed,

"I am," then he looked at her carefully for a moment, "but I'm also like you." His words unnerved me – like him? I assume he meant Bella was a mutant, like he was. But how did he know that? No-one outside our family knew, and Bella had never told anyone as far as I was aware.

"I'm not like you," my sister immediately protested, growing bolder by the minute. I rooted for her in dignified silence.

"No, you're not," Magneto mused with another smile, "but you do have…gifts." The look he gave her left me in no doubt that he knew what her powers comprised of, but how…and more importantly, why?

"What do you want with me?" Bella narrowed her eyes at him, her hands fidgeting as she glanced this way and that, and I could see she was judging whether she could outrun him. Probably not – he was almost definitely stronger and faster than she was.

"I want your blood," the criminal answered simply, "I need it to unlock the secrets to your power." I could see was thrown by his odd request, and so was I. And why would he tell her so openly?

"Why?" Bella asked, voice laden with suspicion and uncertainty. Magneto's smile was truly worthy of a shark this time,

"You think you can just heal people? My dear Isabella, you are capable of _so _much more…and I plan to show you that." I did not like where this conversation was going, and felt my body tense up in preparation to fight.

"What do you mean?" Bella demanded, "I don't…I can't…" she fell silent as a large syringe floated out of the case to hover in front of Magneto. He flicked it absently,

"Just a little blood," he told her in what could have been an assuring manner. Bella shook her head,

"No…" she began to protest, and made to move away. I watched in horror as the very chair she was seated on seemed to unravel itself, fixing around her arms and legs to hold her in position. Bella cried out in shock and struggled against them to no avail.

"If you don't stay still, this will hurt a lot more," Magneto warned her, moving the needle close to her skin. Bella whimpered. I had had enough.

A growl ripped itself from my throat as I launched myself from the shadows, latching onto Magneto's calf and biting down hard. I tasted denim and blood and chewed in a grotesque manner, worrying at the flesh. It did the job and Magneto cried out in pain, the syringe falling harmlessly to the ground. He kicked out at me and caught me in the stomach, but I managed to dodge the blow and made for his other leg. Cursing in what sounded like German he tried to get at me with his hands. I nipped at the tender part of his ankle tendons and he began to fall over, crashing onto an old refrigerator. I leapt onto his chest, teeth bared, fangs dripping in his blood. I snapped my jaws close to his neck, letting my warning ring clear – if he moved I'd tear his throat out.

Oddly enough, he made no move to fight back, looking at me with a mixture of fascination and curiosity. I snarled at him. Risking a glance back I locked gaze with Bella and let out a small, apologetic whine. She started to smile but then her eyes widened in shock,

"Manda, look out!" she cried, and I whipped around…but it was too late. Something hard and heavy caught me full in the face and all at once I was being hauled into the air, suspended my tail. I thrashed around in agony, feeling one of my fangs chip and my own blood pool in my mouth. I spat onto the ground, snapping and snarling like a wild animal. Magneto pushed himself to his feet, brushing his trousers down. They were torn and bloody, but overall I hadn't done much physical damage, and I resented that deeply.

"That was unwise," he commented simply, giving me a sharp, irritated smile.

"Let her go! Let her go!" Bella cried, furiously struggling against her metal bonds. Magneto sighed,

"I had hoped it wouldn't get this complicated." Something rose from behind Bella and flew towards her head. I tried to cry out a warning, but it was too late. A crow bar smacked her squarely on the head, knocking her out cold. I howled.

The sound was cut off abruptly as a hand clamped down over my muzzle, making me bite my tongue. I whimpered in pain and could only glare up at Magneto, shaking my nose furiously. He finally let go and I tried to bite his fingers, but he moved away too quickly. He studied me in obvious fascination for a moment.

"I've met mutants with animal qualities, and mutants who can turn into other people…but never a mutant who can turn into animals," he sounded almost pleasant, as if he was talking about the weather. I snarled at him. He quirked a brow in amusement,

"Can't you talk?" I barked loudly in anger, giving him his answer. Because no, unlike animals in children's stories, I could not talk.

"That's a shame," Magneto said with false sympathy, "do you have any other talents?" I just looked at him, trying to pour hatred into my eyes to drill into his. But his were cold and blank, like steel, and my attack was a waste of energy. I fell limp in defeat, glancing towards my sister's unconscious body.

"How pathetic," Magneto murmured softly, but I heard. I growled low in my throat, raising the volume until suddenly I was all out howling, screaming what some people dubbed the 'vixen's scream'. It was a loud and entirely unpleasant noise, but it never failed to draw attention, and if I couldn't take on Magneto then at least I could let others know he was here. But he just cursed fluently, giving me a look of annoyance.

"This would have been easier for all of us if you hadn't decided to play the hero," he muttered in irritation, but I ignored him and carried on howling. With a final, disgusted sound, he waved his hand. I fell to the ground, letting out a cry of pain as my body was met with cold concrete.

I didn't even have time to get up before something fixed itself around my throat, hauling me into the air once again. I came eye to eye with Magneto, and his jaw was stiff and taut in suppressed anger.

"I have gone easy on you because you are young and foolish," he told me bluntly, "but if you follow me again, I will not be nearly as lenient. Do I make myself clear?" Without waiting for a reply, he splayed out his hand. I was thrown backwards, towards the wall, and hit my head soundly on something hard.

Spots danced before my eyes as I slid to the floor, and when I tried to get to my feet my body was unresponsive. Everything was fading fast and there was a dark haze descending over my eyes. I looked up to where Bella sat, limp and unconscious like a beautiful rag doll.

I had failed her. I promised her no-one would ever take her from me, and that I would always be there to keep her safe…but not anymore. Magneto was strong, and I was weak, and I had let him take my sunshine away.

I whimpered.

And all was dark.

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**Ah, I love the smell of anxious readers in the morning - lucky for you the next chapter is already posted. Can I get a 'thank you for being so awesome and cool'?**

**How was the chapter? Sorry if I didn't establish Miranda's age earlier - she's 13 in the first chapter and 17 in this one - and please rest assured that underage smut is totally not my thing. **

**Obey the 3 Rs - Read. Review. Retire. And by the last one I mean you should probably be in bed, whatever time of day it is where you are - bed is always the best place to be.**

**Until next time - which is closer than you think.**

**Your humble author,**

**Magic**


	3. Chapter 3

**TWO CHAPTERS IN TWO DAYS DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW RARE THAT IS FOR ME? I MUST REALLY LOVE YOU...**

**Anyway, thanks for all your lovely reviews so far - they really fuel me and inspire me to write more...hence why I was able to chug out this chapter in a day - and it's a long-ass chapter! I can't be bothered to proof-read it at the moment...I'll do that in the morning - in the mean time, forgive me for any typos or grammatical errors. And please keep in mind that I'm English - you Americans spell a lot of things wrong and so if a word looks wrong it's actually right...just saying. I still love you.**

**OH. IMPORTANT NOTE - if you've read the first two chapters within the past week, go and read them again as they've changed - nothing major, but I feel like the change adds more to the plot - the updated chapters were added as of June 6th. If you're reading this for the first time then carry on.**

**Sit back, relax, and enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

_A friend in need is a friend indeed_

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Pain was the first thing to greet me when I awoke. It started in my head as a dull ache and flushed through the rest of my body, gaining heat and strength as it went. I groaned in agony, surprising myself when it came out as a growl. I could taste blood in my mouth, my own…and someone else's. I frowned, my eyes fluttering open.

I was lying on cold, concrete floor, and everything around me was huge. I blinked – had I shrunk? Then I realised I was still in fox form, and I shook my head slowly. I never slept as an animal, the risk of being discovered was too great, so why…

Then I remembered. It hit me like a tidal wave – the cinema, waiting for Bella, the bathroom incident…chasing a car through the city, arriving at a warehouse, meeting…Magneto. My eyes widened. He wanted Bella. He wanted her blood and would have got it but I attacked him but then he knocked Bella out and I was suspended in the air…

Tears pricked my eyes, and I half-heartedly sniffed at the air. Bella's scent was there, and so was Magneto, but it was already fading – they were long gone. I let out a mournful cry. Bella! My sister, my sunshine…I had to find her!

Forcing myself to my feet, I ignored my protesting body. I needed to go after her, maybe call the police for help or something. I only made it a few steps before something around my neck pulled taut and I was stopped from going any further. Growling at the jolt it sent down my spine, I looked back. My blood ran cold.

A thick chain was crudely attached to the wall, leading to a collar…around my neck. Anger and shame burned within me – he had chained me up, like some common animal! I snapped my teeth in irritation. He would pay for this. I pulled on the chain, but the links were too strong and my teeth weren't made for cutting metal. I sat down, then yelped as my hind-leg protested and I realised it was sprained or broken, one or the other. I whined in a moment of self-pity. I couldn't heal while in fox form, and I couldn't change back into a human without strangling myself. I looked around for anything that could help me, but there was nothing but useless junk, none of it fit to break me out. I started to cry.

I was trapped.

I stayed where I was, wondering what I could do. I could try and call for help, but whoever came could just as easily hurt me – no-one had much love for foxes. I could maybe catch the attention of another animal, but again, they'd probably see me as a threat to be dealt with than an ally to be freed. I bowed my head, cursing my own helplessness. Every second I spent chained up like an animal was a second longer Bella spent with Magneto. I had to get free.

A noise made my ears prick up, and I thought I heard footsteps. I listened closer. There it was again…footsteps! Someone was here, in the warehouse – but would they help or hinder me? I debated whether or not to cry out as they shuffled around the place, kicking at junk and stopping here and there to look at something. They were probably one of the local boys looking for an inventive way to spend the summer. Should I risk it?

I heard my father's voice, distant and faint in my mind.

_"__Nothing ventured, nothing gained,"_ he told me. I swallowed. I let out a short, sharp bark, weak enough to not sound aggressive, but strong enough to be heard. The footsteps stopped.

"Hello?" called a voice, and my heart leapt. It was the voice of a young male. Now I could only hope he wasn't the kind who liked to torment injured animals. I whined softly. The footsteps started up again, moving in my direction, "hello?" called the voice again.

A figure came into view and I moved back a bit, hidden by the variety of junk. I couldn't help the flicker of surprise that crossed my face as I recognised who it was. There was only one young man I knew with silver hair – Wanda's brother, Peter. But what was he doing here, of all places?

I didn't have time to answer my own question as he caught sight of me, and I instinctively cowered. I didn't think he would hurt me, but you could never be too sure. His eyebrows rose in surprise and he approached slowly.

"Hey little guy," he said softly, "what you doing in here?" he asked. I backed up slightly, the chain rattling as I did. His eyes followed the chain from the wall to my collar and back again. He frowned.

"Who chained you up?" he asked, as if I could answer. I couldn't. He came forward a few more paces and I snapped a warning. He didn't smell of bad intentions, but I didn't want to take chances. He obviously got the message as he held his hands aloft, the universal sign of surrender, "it's alright," he assured me, "I'm not going to hurt you." I just watched him as he circled around to the wall and I moved away, like a magnet being repelled by an opposite force. He picked up the chain and have it a good tug. It didn't budge. He pulled a face,

"Well that's not gonna come out any time soon," he muttered under his breath, and I couldn't help but wonder at the way he spoke – it was like he was a tape on fast forward, but someone had their finger on the rewind button and the speed was all mixed up. He looked back at me with a thoughtful expression, then got to his feet, flashing a brief smile, "don't go anywhere."

He disappeared. I reeled in shock as a breath of air breezed over me, ruffling my fur. I turned around, looking for any sign of him…but he was gone. Had I imagined him? But no, his scent was still here, a mixture of peppermint and body sweat…

"Right, now hold still," I jumped as his voice came from behind and another breath of air passed over me. I whirled around to find him once again by the wall, this time with a pair of metal pliers to hand. I blinked in shock – had he…could he…?

With a few sharp snaps the chain was free from the wall and fell to the ground. My only coherent thought was that I was now free, so I banished all thoughts of what the boy had done and did the only thing my mind was telling me to do – I ran.

I didn't get very far.

"Whoa there, buddy," something pulled on the chain, preventing me from escaping, and thought I snapped and strained he would not let go. I turned back to the young man who was watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern, "you're bleeding," he observed, his eyes roaming over my head. I let out a whine, begging him with my eyes to let me go. He didn't. Instead, he pulled me closer, and though I tried to resist him I was too weak. He stopped when I was about a foot from him, obviously wary enough to keep me at a distance – to him I was still a wild animal.

"And your leg…is it broken?" he wondered aloud. I just looked at him and pulled on the chain, but he still didn't get the message. A frown creased his brow as his lips pursed in thought, and I couldn't help the anxious flip my stomach did – what was he thinking? Eventually, he sighed.

"If I don't take you home, Wanda will have a fit," he muttered, before he started to chew his lip. The uneasy feeling in my stomach grew – I couldn't let him take me to his house, I had to get after Bella! I whined and strained on the chain. "Would you stop it?" he exclaimed suddenly, "I'm trying to help you!" I was shocked into a temporary silence. He seemed to come to a decision and got to his feet, slipping off his jumper to reveal a Pink Floyd t-shirt underneath. I didn't know what he was doing until he threw the jumper at me and everything went dark.

Before I could even react, arms had swooped in and picked me up, holding me tight against a chest. I struggled, but my legs got tangled in the jumper and pain shot through my foot like lightening, making me whimper.

"It's ok, it's ok…I've got you," a voice told me soothingly, and I stilled. My heart was beating so very fast as he shifted me in his arms, making sure I was suitably restrained and comfortable against his chest, my head practically buried under his armpit. His scent was overwhelming at such proximity – he smelt of peppermint, body sweat, and something slightly sour.

"Hold on tight now," he warned, and I frowned. Hold on to what, exactly? And why?!

He began to move, and I found out what he meant.

He moved like lightning. It was fast and it was exhilarating and it was nauseating. Even from within the confines of his jumper I felt like I was being squeezed and stretched at the same time, sucked through a black hole and spat out the other end. I couldn't tell you how long he was moving for, but when he finally stopped it felt like forever and a day had passed by. Luckily, I had nothing in my stomach, otherwise I would probably have been sick all over his jumper.

I felt him going up some steps, and then the sound of a door opening.

"Wanda, I got you a present," he called, and my fur ruffled indignantly – I was not a present.

"What?" I heard a familiar voice shout back.

"Present," was all he repeated. I was set onto a hard, firm surface, and close by I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Peter, what…" the voice stopped short, "what is that?"

"Have a look and find out. And I want that jumper back," Peter replied. Tentative hands fell upon the jumper, unwrapping it gently to grant me light and fresh air.

"Oh, Peter!" Wanda gasped, and I looked between the siblings. At the back of my mind, I mused that it could be a lot worse – they could live on the other side of the city from me, but as it happened I was not only a few hundred yards from home. Maybe I could stop by for a change of clothes before I went after Magneto…

"Found him in the old warehouse off Wilson Street," Peter told her, and there was a zipping noise as he disappeared and the fridge opened, and he was back with a soda to hand. I blinked. I was certain of it now – Peter was a mutant. But I couldn't figure out his powers…it looked like teleportation but that didn't seem to be it.

"Her," Wanda corrected her brother. He just shrugged,

"Whatever. My jumper," he pointed to the object of clothing I was still wrapped up in before he was gone, a light breeze the only clue to his having been here. It clicked – he wasn't a teleporter, he was just fast…really fast. So fast he could make the fastest man in the world look like a snail.

Wanda tutted and turned back to me, her kind eyes filled with concern as she pulled the jumper from me, inspecting the collar around my neck.

"Well that's got to come off for a start," she muttered, snapping her fingers. A red glow appeared in the air around her hand and with a simple wave it spread out, opening drawers all around the kitchen. I stared – Wanda was a mutant too?! I had to admit, I was a little put out. After all, I'd lived down the road from this family for 4 years…and not once had I ever suspected they were anything other than ordinary. Apart from Peter's hair, that was, but I just put that down to a rebellious stage that still hadn't worn off.

Humming to herself, Wanda began searching the drawers and cupboards, pulling together a crude first-aid and chain-breaking kit. Her hands were firm but gentle as she held me down, working away at the collar with pliers until was wide enough to slip off my neck. Then she cleaned my face with salt-water, taking care not to get any in my eyes. With regard to my leg, she muttered that it was only broken and the break was clean, so she just set a pencil against my thigh and tied it in place with some medical tape and bandages. It really restricted my leg movement, but I appreciated the gesture – she was only trying to help, after all. Last but not least, she presented me with a bowl of water and some left over beef casserole, both of which I gratefully consumed. She smiled and scratched me behind the ear,

"You're a good little vixen. I wish all the animals I rescued were as well behaved as you," she mused aloud. I wanted to laugh, but it wouldn't come across that well, so settled for panting in a happy dog-like fashion. Wanda laughed and stroked my head, and I closed my eyes at the soothing nature of the gesture. As any cat or dog will tell you, being stroked is one of the nicest things in the world – second only to a good scratch.

Wanda left the kitchen muttering something about a box, and I dabbled in the idea of making my escape. But one look at my pencilled leg told me I wasn't going anywhere fast, so I resigned to stay where I was. I needed to wait until I was sure I was alone before I tore the bandage off and got out of here, through a cat-flap or an open window.

"Here we are," Wanda announced proudly, setting a tall box on to the table. With gentle care she lifted me into it where there was a fresh, comfy towel and a bowl of fresh water waiting. Even though I wasn't going to take advantage of it for long, I appreciated the care she was putting into treating me right. She set me down on the ground by the refrigerator, pushing me against the wall. Kneeling down, she spent a moment stroking me, and I was almost lulled to a light doze by the time she got up, sighing.

"I've got homework to finish, but I'll be back to check on you later," she told me with a smile. And with that, she was gone.

I waited a minute, and then another, and then another. When I was confident she wasn't coming back any time soon I got up on my hind legs to try and peer over the top of the box. But it was too high and my leg hurt, and there was no way I could jump that height in such a condition. I tried pushing the box over, but she must have set something on the other side because it would hardly give an inch. I whined in frustration, hardly wanting to believe that I was trapped again…and by a cardboard box!

To save time I began chewing on my bandage, working it loose as I tried to figure out how best to make my escape. If there house was set out like ours, then that meant the kitchen was directly to the left of the front door…which meant it was only a few feet away. I pulled at the tape, spitting out the sticky taste as I weighed up the pros and cons of such an escapade. If I became human, I could run to the door and open it, then change back into a fox and get outside…before anyone caught sight of me naked. I blushed furiously at the thought. There wasn't much I liked about being a mutant, but the whole 'animals have no clothes' thing was really annoying. But since Wanda was upstairs and I didn't think Peter would be back any time soon…it seemed like my best option. That or a back door to the kitchen, which I don't think they had given that we didn't have one either.

I gulped down some water and stretched out my leg, now free of the bandage. I took a deep breath. I needed to find Bella, that was my priority, and that meant I had to get out of here. I couldn't put it off any longer.

I closed my eyes and changed form, feeling myself grow taller as I rapidly outgrew the box, my feet tipping over the bowl of water. Fully grown, I shook myself out as my body finally got around to healing itself, resetting my broken tooth and wiping the cuts and bruises from my arms and legs. There was still a bit of blood and dirt here and there, but nothing a few splashes of water couldn't fix. My leg was the tricky part. Changing form had undone all Wanda's careful treatment, and when I looked down at my ankle I was nearly sick there and then at the angle it was sticking out at. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw hard, before giving my leg a good jerk and snapping it back into alignment.

Stars danced before my eyes as pain rocketed up my leg and along my spine, and for a moment I thought I might pass out. But I remained conscious and the pain began to subside, and I let out the smallest whimper. I clapped a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from making another sound. I waited in breathless silence to see if anyone had heard, then let out a quiet sigh of relief when I heard no movement from anyone. I stepped out of the box.

I was doing so well. I was out of the kitchen and my fingers were just inches from the door handle when suddenly.

"PETER! DID YOU STEAL MY BEATLES TAPE AGAIN?" Wanda yelled from upstairs. I froze, praying to every deity I knew that Peter would just yell back, giving me time to get out. But for some reason, today just wasn't my day.

"What did you-WHAT THE HELL?" I turned my head ever so slightly to find Peter standing only a few feet away, staring at me. And I was naked. I whimpered as his eyes widened in complete and utter shock, and in that moment I knew I'd never felt so humiliated in my life.

I panicked.

I tried to do two things at once – open the door and turn into a fox. I only succeeded in one of them. In a small act of mercy, I was granted the second success, but that left me in fox form, paws scrabbling helplessly against the glass of their front door. I turned, realising the futility of my actions. Peter was still staring. I looked passed him – everyone has a back door, didn't they?

Without really thinking about it I darted down the hall, slipping between his legs and taking off as fast as I could. I didn't get very far. A hand reached out and grabbed the scruff of my neck, where almost every animal was vulnerable, and I was hauled into the air, paws flailing aimlessly. I was turned around and found myself looking into a pair of dark brown eyes, wide and curious with just a hint of mischief to their depths.

"You can turn into a fox?!" he exclaimed in my face, "that is so _cool!"_ I stopped struggling – was he being serious? After all that had happened, that was the thing he chose to pick up on? I guess it could have been worse.

I snapped at him in irritation, trying to wriggle free of his grasp, but he was surprisingly strong for a skinny guy and I remained hanging in the air like a puppet.

"Peter, what on earth…" Wanda was coming down the stairs and when she turned the corner and saw us her eyes widened in horror, "Peter, what are you doing?" she cried, running forward and wrenching me from him, holding me protectively against chest. Peter made no reply, looking from her to me and back again. Then, without warning, he burst out laughing.

It was loud and unexpected and extremely annoying. I snarled at him.

"Peter, what the hell is wrong with you?" Wanda was watching her brother with obvious concern, her fingers stroking over my head in a comforting manner. Peter only carried on laughing, pointing at me. "What's so funny about Ariel?" Wanda demanded, catching my unawares – she had already decided a name for me? I was flattered. And Ariel was quite a nice name.

Peter laughed harder.

"Damn it, Pietro," Wanda growled, holding a hand aloft and bringing a cloud or red smoke into being. I looked at it with interest – it seemed almost alive, sparking like a fire, and yet smoking at the same time. It was an interesting power. Peter, or Pietro, or whatever he was called, finally started to calm down.

"You…you wouldn't be holding her if you knew what she was…" he gasped, still chuckling. Wanda frowned,

"She's a fox," she asserted. Peter shook his head,

"No, she isn't," he looked at me, "are you? It's Miranda, isn't it?" Even though I was naturally red all over, I blushed to the roots of every red hair I had – he had recognised me? And when I was naked! I let out an embarrassed whine – I was never going to live this down, ever. This was the worst day of my life.

"Miranda? What are you talking about?" Wanda stopped stroking me. Peter shook his head in disbelief, a smile playing about his lips,

"Your friend…Bella. That's her older sister," he pointed at me. Wanda looked at him as if he was mad,

"Peter, you are seriously not right in the head," she murmured. Her brother held his hands up in submission,

"You know what? For once, I'm being honest. I came up the stairs and she was standing by the front door…naked," he tittered like a school boy and I wanted to bite him right between the legs, "and then she turned into a fox and tried to run away but I caught her because I'm faster than anything!" Wanda's face told me she had no idea what to make of the situation, and I knew things would never get resolved until I had shown them both what I could do.

Wriggling fiercely, I took Wanda's unawares and jumped down from her arms, landing lightly on the floor. I put some distance between me and them before turning my back and changing. It was embarrassing and mortifying and everything humiliating under the sun, but I didn't have time to go about things the long way – Bella still needed me. Both siblings stared as I grew into my human form, my naked back turned to them.

And then Peter had the audacity to wolf-whistle. I burned red and tears pricked my eyes, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than for the ground to open and swallow me up.

"Oh," Wanda murmured softly, still staring. Then she seemed to regain her composure. She turned on her brother and smacked him right in the face, "you pervert, out!"

"What? But I…" Peter began to protest but Wanda was already pushing him from the room. She shut the door firmly behind him and turned back to me, her face a picture of sympathy and embarrassment. Picking up a blanket from a sofa she tossed it to me,

"Here, you can cover yourself with that until I find something more…adequate." She bit her lip as I wrapped the blanket around me like a towel, nodding my head in thanks. My throat was a little too closed up for words. "I am so, _so_ sorry," she whispered, "if I'd known I'd never have…I'm sorry." I shrugged helplessly and tried to smile,

"No-one knows," I whispered croakily, "except Bella." Understanding dawned on Wanda's face.

"Your sister? Do you want me to get her? You live at 124, don't you…?" I winced at her words as I remembered where Bella really was. I shook my head,

"No, I…" I was interrupted by a banging on the door,

"Ask her if she has a hero name yet!" called Peter, "I'm thinking 'Vixen' would be cool." A single tear slid down my face, and while it wasn't as a result of Peter's words, Wanda obviously took it as such. Her face hardened and she stormed over to the door, flinging it open.

"Go _away!"_ she yelled, flinging her fist out to him. There was a yelp and a spark of red, followed by the sound of someone crashing to the ground. She closed the door again and gave me an apologetic look, "I'm sorry about Peter, he's harmless really. He can just be a bit…boyish." I wiped my eyes and just nodded, not knowing how to reply. Wanda gave me a small smile, "wait here, I'll go and get you some clothes." She left the room, leaving me on my own, wrapped only in a towel. From outside I heard the sound of muttered threats and protests of indignation followed by a yelp of pain. I smiled ever so slightly at that.

Wanda returned a moment later with an armful of clothes which she dumped on a chair next to me. "I don't think my underwear will fit you, but my mum won't mind if you borrow some of hers. And those are her jogging pants, and my sweater," she gestured the clothing. I nodded in gratitude and she politely turned away, giving me a moment's privacy to dress in peace. The clothes smelt odd but homely, and they fit well enough for the time being so I made no complaints. With my modesty patched up, I murmured I was done and Wanda turned around. She smiled in relief, "oh good, they fit." I returned the smile, but it was half-hearted.

There was a knock on the door. And a second later, another. Wanda pulled a face and glanced at me, "do you mind if I let him in? Otherwise he'll just break the door down or come in through the window." I let out an empty chuckle and nodded, and Wanda reluctantly opened the door. Peter zipped onto the sofa, sitting with his legs outstretched and his hands behind his head.

"So, what did I miss?" he asked with a cheeky grin. I flushed and avoided his gaze, but Wanda snapped her fingers in warning and he held up his hands, "joking, joking," he assured her before looking at me, "you wanna tell me why I found you chained up in some old warehouse like a common animal?" I eyed the exit, wondering if now was the time to leave. I didn't want to have to explain myself and my situation to these two, even if they were mutants. There were those who believed that what Magneto was doing was for the best of mutant-kind, and for all I know these two could be part of his gang.

"If you try to run, I'll catch you," Peter announced bluntly, obviously noting my interest in the door.

"Peter!" Wanda exclaimed in shock. He only shrugged,

"Just saying." He disappeared in a breath of air and a moment later returned with a glass of water and a chocolate bar. "Drink that, eat this, and sit there," he held the items out to me and pointed to the sofa. I took the drink and chocolate and glanced towards Wanda. She gave me an encouraging smile, but it was slightly guarded, and I knew I wasn't going to get out of this easily. I sat down and took a sip of water, then took my time unwrapping the chocolate bar as I thought what to do.

I could lie, but I was a terrible liar. I could come clean, but that would risk Magneto knowing I was free and coming after him. I took a bite of chocolate. Peter zipped around the room a few times, and I guessed that he was not the patient type. Even when he was still he seemed to be moving, his body ready to react at a moment's notice. Wanda took the seat near the door,

"You can tell us in your own time, Miranda," she told me gently.

"Though preferably now," Peter added. Wanda scowled at him, but he ignored her. I looked between the siblings. They seemed honest enough – I wasn't sensing anything bad from the either of them, and they had been good to me so far. I decided to come clean.

"Magneto took my sister," I began quietly. "Yesterday, at the cinema. I don't know why. I followed them to the warehouse but I couldn't…he knocked me out. I don't know where he's taken her." A stunned silence greeted my words as both siblings just stared at me. Peter was the first to react.

"Well," he clapped his hands together, then turned to his sister, "Penny's home today, why don't you go and pay her a visit?" Wanda gave him a look of disbelief,

"What?"

"Penny. Visit her," Peter clarified in a deliberate manner. His sister's face turned to disgust,

"I'm not going to visit Penny while Miranda needs our help!"

"Yes, you are," Peter told her, "and I'm going to help Miranda." It was my turn to look doubtful. A flicker of understanding passed between them, but then Wanda shook her head stubbornly.

"I'm coming with you," she announced solidly. Peter rolled his eyes,

"You know you'll only slow us down," he pointed out.

"I don't care. I'm coming with you," Wanda folded her arms, indicating her resolve.

"Wanda," Peter whined like a child. I decided to speak up before a sibling argument broke out in full force,

"Where are we going?" I asked, "do you know where my sister is?" My heart skipped a beat in faint hope. Peter shook his head, looking almost apologetic,

"Nope, sorry, but…" he grinned that boyish, goofy smile of his, "I know someone who can find her."

* * *

**Everyone who follows gets a cookie. Everyone who reviews gets two cookies. Those who do both get three cookies and a hug. Sound fair? You know you want the cookies...I baked them with extra chocolate chips. **

**Peter's annoying, isn't he? Let me know if I'm doing him justice. Also, I've cast the little girl he was seen with in the movie as Wanda - I know they're supposed to be twins in the comics, but let's just say for the sake of...the sake that they are actually just siblings and Wanda is a few years younger. That would make Peter 17 and Wanda 11 for Days of Future Past, and 21 and 15 respectively for this story. And yes, Magneto is still father to them both - I'm still working on that, but don't worry, it will become apparent soon enough.**

**Right, no more chapters until I receive a satisfactory response - by which I mean my ego needs to be big enough to use as a bouncy castle, and I need to have run the country out of batter from making so many cookies. **

**Your humble author,**

**Magic**

**PS - This story is rated T because of chapters like the one above - nudity and gore are not going to be in every chapter, but they will brush by every now and again given the nature of Miranda's mutation.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, first of all - thank you. Your reviews and follows and overall response has been...wow - please keep it coming!**

**Secondly, to address a few issues some readers have raised - Miranda's power. I know it's classic, I know she's basically an animagus, and I know her abilities are fairly simple, but trust me when I say I planned it that way. Miranda is not special - she is just a young mutant with an avergae mutation. As it happens, Bella is the one with special powers - and you'll find out more in this chapter.**

**Also - story pacing. This story is fast-paced and I know things are happening quickly, but again, I planned it that way. You'll get to know the characters on the go, rather than me trawling through a back-story before finally getting into the action. I do adventure, people...not drama. I hope you can enjoy it anyway.**

**I think that's everything for now...please carry on reading and reviewing!**

* * *

Chapter 4

_A stitch in time saves nine_

* * *

Despite my misgivings and anxiety to get to Bella as soon as possible, I grudgingly realised that I was unlikely to find her on my own, and even less likely to take down Magneto without extra help. So it was with a great deal of hesitancy that I accepted the help of Wanda and Peter, and crossed my fingers that I wouldn't live to regret it.

It was agreed we would take Peter's car, though he grumbled quite a lot about how slow the journey would be and how much faster he could go if he could just take me. Wanda wasn't having any of it, and left a message for their mother before climbing into the backseat, arms crossed. I slid into the passenger seat at Peter's bidding, then had an idea.

"Do you mind if we stop by my house? I won't be a moment. I just…need to change," I picked at Wanda's jumper, giving her an apologetic look through the mirror. Peter shrugged,

"Whatever." The car whirred to life and he took off. Even in the few hundred yards we travelled I could tell that Peter was the kind of guy they warned you about in school and driving classes. He was a reckless driver, and it came as a relief when he finally pulled up outside my house after barely 30 seconds of driving.

"We'll wait here," Wanda told me. Peter muttered something under his breath but I ignored him, getting out the car and jogging up the steps to my front door. I slipped the spare key from under the doormat and let myself in.

The place was empty, to my relief, and I wasted no time in going upstairs to the room Bella and I shared, eager to wash off the blood and dirt and dress in my own clothes. I was pulling out fresh underwear when I heard a faint zipping noise.

"You still share a room with your sister?" came a voice, and I jumped slightly, turning around to face a surprised looking Peter. Flushing red, I shoved my underwear under a pair of trousers,

"Yes, I do," I replied stiffly. Peter gave me a look,

"Aren't you a little old for that?"

"It was my choice," I told him, then added, "I thought you were going to wait in the car." He just shrugged, looking around my room with careless interest,

"I got bored," was all he offered. I frowned in annoyance, but decided against protesting – he didn't seem like the kind who appreciated the value of personal space. With barely concealed irritation, I pulled together the rest of my clothes.

"Peter!" Wanda stood in the doorway, eyeing her brother coldly. He quirked an eyebrow at her and she scowled before glancing at me, her eyes already apologising. I just shook my head,

"It's fine," I murmured, even though it wasn't. Wanda looked like she was about to protest, then just shook her head.

"Don't touch _anything_," she growled to her brother before she left. Peter pulled a face at her retreating back, then flashed me a grin. I rolled my eyes and went into the bedroom's en suite bathroom, closing the door firmly and locking it as loud as I could. Finally alone, I let out a breath.

Then, realising I shouldn't waste time, I started to strip. I didn't have time for a shower, so I just used a wet flannel to clean the blood and dirt from my body, splashing my face with cold water and soaping my armpits to get rid of the day-old smell I was beginning to give off. I changed the underwear I'd been given for my own, then pulling on my own trousers and t-shirt, followed by socks and shoes and a loose jumper. I did my hair last, tugging a brush through the knots until it was almost tidy. I pulled it up into a pony-tail and left it at that. Leaning on the sink, I took a moment to give myself the once over in the mirror.

A girl of 17 stared back at me, her face square and rather angular, with a small mouth and proud nose. Her eyebrows were dark against her pale skin, framing her face, and her forehead was a little large. Her eyes were a hazel-green, and burned with a dull intensity of one who was lost but determined to find their way. I snorted at the thought. All in all, this girl was no thing of beauty – pretty, maybe on a good day, but never beautiful. Not like Bella.

My heart twinged at the thought of her, my ray of sunshine. Only 11 years old already blossoming into an enchanting young lady, full of laughter and life. I had to find her before Magneto could take that from her. Turning away from the mirror, I left the bathroom.

Peter was sitting on the floor, absently flipping through a copy of 'Watership Down'. He looked up as I came out, smiling briefly before he gestured the book,

"Are rabbits really that violent?" I just gave him a look and didn't grace him with an answer, stopping only to grab my wallet before I headed out, hoping he would take the hint and follow. Thankfully, he did, and a moment later we were back in the car and speeding down the street like the very hounds of hell were after us.

It was all I could do to fasten my seatbelt and hold on tight, praying that we might reach our destination without being pulled over by the police or crashing. I looked at Wanda through the mirror, but she was picking at her nails and seemed almost bored, so I guessed she must be used to her brother's reckless driving.

After yet another narrow escape from a junction where Peter failed to check the coast was clear, I decided to try and reason with him.

"Do you think you could slow down a little?" I ventured, wincing as the car violently went over a speed bump. Peter turned to look at me with an odd expression, still driving,

"What do you mean? This _is_ slow." I gaped at him, but he just grinned and turned back to the road, and I realised he wasn't going to answer my request. Grinding my teeth together, I closed my eyes and tried not to throw up.

After several hours, though it felt considerably longer, Peter finally started to slow down when we came to some country roads, eventually coming to a halt before two large iron gates with a plaque that read 'Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters'. With the engine still running he got out and opened them, returning to the driver's seat in less than a second. After he closed the gates again, we drove down another short country road before pulling into a driveway. My mouth fell open.

The house was _huge_. And old. And so very…majestic. Intricately carved archways hung over every window, and the flower beds were all preened and colourful like peacocks despite it being the heart of winter. Another plaque was placed above the main door as we pulled up, and Peter cut the engine.

"Here we are, home sweet home," he announced brightly. Wanda shot him a look and got out the car, and I hesitantly followed. There didn't seem to be anyone about, but the smell of life was evident in the air, so someone had to live here.

"Why are we here?" I asked, glancing at Wanda, but it was Peter who answered.

"To meet a friend of mine," he told me, "come on." He zipped to the door and rang the bell, then puffed out his cheeks and looked at his watch. My brow furrowed at his antics.

"You'll get used to him," Wanda assured me, heading for the door, "you'll have to." I ignored the ominous double meaning to her words and shoved my hands into my pockets - it wasn't that cold, but there was still a distinct chill to the air. I reached the front door just as it opened to reveal a man in his early 30s, with dark hair and glasses and a rather boyish face. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who it was.

"Peter? Wanda!" he exclaimed happily, "what are you doing here?"

"Hey Beastie," Peter greeted, "we need to see the Professor…is he around?"

"He's teaching, but come on in…" the man said, but Peter was already inside. Wanda gave him a look and an understanding passed between them. The man looked at me with polite interest.

"Oh, Hank, this is Miranda," Wanda introduced us, "Miranda, this is Hank McCoy, he's one of the teachers here." I smiled and shook the man's hand, wondering at the slightly feral scent he was giving off – was he a mutant? Peter certainly didn't seem bothered about flouting his powers in his presence, so he must at least be aware.

"A pleasure," Hank told me, and I nodded in response. We went inside.

The interior was just as grand as the exterior – polished wooden floors, panelled walls, expensive looking portraits. I took it all in with an appreciative eye. I didn't normally take to such finery, but there was something about the place that made it seem homely as well as stately.

"I found him," called a cheery voice, and Peter appeared down the hall next to a man in a wheelchair. They came forward together.

"Professor, I'm sorry…" Hank began, but the man in the wheelchair waved his apology away.

"It's ok, Hank, class was over anyway," he said, arriving just a foot or so in front of me. He was middle-aged by the looks of it, but still too young to warrant a wheelchair. Yet he retained good looks, albeit slightly hindered by the creases around his face and his already thinning hair. But his eyes were alive with life and held a depth of wisdom and sincerity that I immediately took a liking too. He held out a hand to me, "Professor Charles Xavier. Welcome." I shook his hand, smiling faintly,

"Thank you," I murmured. He looked between me and the siblings,

"So what can I do for you?" I swallowed, suddenly remembering why I was here in the first place. The grandeur of the house had temporarily overtaken my thoughts, but now it had faded they resumed their original course – find Bella. The man in the wheelchair seemed to sense the slight shift in my thoughts, but waited politely for someone to elaborate.

"It's my sister," I managed to blurt out, then paused, glancing at Wanda and Peter who gave me varying looks of encouragement and expectation. "Magneto's taken her," I confessed softly. The change was palpable in the air – behind me Hank let out a barely concealed growl to which the animal in me knew and recognised, and the Professor sat up a little straighter in his chair, his expression taking on a more serious demeanour.

"Tell me everything," he murmured, a gentle command. I nodded without thinking.

"Can't you just read her mind?" Peter spoke up from where he was leaning against the wall, watching the going's on with a look of half-boredom. I frowned and glanced back at the Professor – was he a mutant too? He didn't smell like any I'd encountered so far, and yet there was something about him that told me he was one of us.

"Not everything's that easy," the Professor replied, turning his chair around, "Hank, I'm going to need to use Cerebro, did you finish your work?"

"Yes, Professor," Hank nodded, "she's running at maximum efficiency."

"Excellent," the Professor looked at me, "walk with me…Miranda, isn't it?" I nodded, not bothering to question how he knew my name.

"Professor, is it alright if…?" Wanda began.

"Of course, Wanda," the Professor told her with a small smile, "what's mine is yours." The teenager beamed an gave me a comforting smile before she skipped off, and Hank made his excuses and went in another direction, leaving me with the Professor and Peter. The silver-haired man glanced pointedly at the man's wheelchair,

"You are _way_ too slow for me. I'll catch you later." And then he was gone. It was just me and the Professor. He looked up at me with kind eyes,

"Right, my dear. If you could start from the beginning."

* * *

The house was bigger than I had initially anticipated, possessing an underground complex of corridors and labs accessible only by a lift. Going down in the lift felt like entering another world, where the wooden floors and portraits were exchanged for vinyl paving and futuristic, tunnel-like structures.

I told the Professor everything. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. There was something about him that made you feel at ease, and the animal side of me was sensing nothing but honesty and good intentions from him. I could trust him – for now.

By the time I finished talking, we were approaching a circular door with a large 'X' crossed over it. The Professor leaned forward and there was a blue light as it scanned his eyes, then a mechanical voice,

_"__Welcome, Professor."_ The door slid open and he went in, beckoning for me to follow. We went in, the doors shutting behind us. My mouth fell open.

The room was huge, and perfectly spherical, with metal plates coating its entire interior. A lone platform projected out to the centre where there was a small station with a helmet resting on top. The Professor moved forward.

"This is Cerebro," he told me. "Because I'm a telepath I can read minds, but I can also communicate with them. Cerebro amplifies my power allowing me to reach anyone in the world, wherever they are…providing they can't block me. Magneto has a helmet that stops me from reading his thoughts, but your sister will hopefully be unguarded." He reached the station and lifted the helmet, slipping it over his head as he adjusted the wires, checking the dials on the station. "If I can find her, then we can help you get her back." I nodded in understanding, but I was curious,

"Why are you helping me?" I asked. The Professor turned his head towards me, smiling,

"We should always offer assistance to those who need it." He closed his eyes, facing forwards, and I watched in interest as a faint hum filled the air. All at once the room darkened and lights appeared, two different colours of them. "The white lights are the humans," the Professor explained, "the red lights are other mutants." I looked around in open fascination – there were considerably more white lights than red, but even so I was taken aback by how many mutants there were. We were more numerous than I thought.

The view shifted several times, taking us around the world while we remained still, and various people came into focus. There was a young girl with flaming red hair, playing with a toy bird. A beautiful young woman was sipping coffee in a café in France. A man was violently taking out his anger on a punching bag, his muscles straining. All of them came and went, all of them red, but none of them were Bella.

I glanced at the Professor and saw his brow was furrowed in concentration, and I knew better than to interrupt someone who was deep in thought. I carried on looking around me, searching for Bella in my own way.

"Ah, yes," the Professor murmured, and my attention snapped back to him. The scenery changed, and all at once we were hovering above North America, looking down on it from space. "They're still in the country," he went on, "but I can't…" he trailed off, his frown deepening. We zoomed in closer, to the north-east of the continent. I could make out a few of our neighbouring states – Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut.

For one moment I thought they might still be in the state of New York, but then the view took us further north, towards the Canadian border, but then east towards Maine. My heart rate picked up as we got even closer until Maine filled the view. There weren't that many mutants in Maine, only about 3, and one of them was…

The Professor gasped in pain and I caught a glimpse of a part of Maine before he hurriedly took the helmet off, breathing heavily. I couldn't hide my disappointed, but I went to him anyway,

"Professor, are you alright?" I asked, reaching out for his shoulder then changing my mind and pulling my hand back. He took a moment to turn his chair around to face me, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of confusion and uncertainty.

"I'm fine, it's just…" he paused, then looked up at me, "I found your sister. But Erik…Magneto…he's doing something to her mind, and it's making it difficult to track. I did, however, get a glimpse into your sister's mind." My heart skipped a beat,

"And? Where is she?"

"Somerset, Maine," the Professor replied, "but that's not all." The look he gave me made my stomach flip and I swallowed.

"What is it?" I whispered. The Professor seemed to mull over his words,

"What do you know of your sister's powers?" I blinked,

"She's a healer," I told him, "she can heal herself and others…but that's all." The Professor shook his head,

"Unfortunately, it isn't," he gave me a look of sympathy, "your sister is more powerful than you know. Her healing abilities only scratch the surface, but what she can really do is manipulate organic matter." My eyebrows rose in surprise,

"What?"

"When she touches someone, she can change them from the inside out," the Professor went on, "at the moment she seems to be set on a default, so her touch turns every cell in the body into a healthy one, fixing the ones that are broken or contaminated…sort of like a disinfectant. But if she wanted to, she could go a step further…" he took a breath, obviously still thinking carefully about his words, "and…she could…change the very nature of the cell. She could turn a skin cell into a muscle cell, a muscle cell into blood cell, and so on. And, with the right amount of power and concentration, she could even change a person's identity. A fair-skinned person could become dark-skinned, a man could become a woman…a human could become a mutant." There was a silence that greeted his words as I went over them in my head – Bella could…change people? Ok, that in itself wasn't unusual given what some other mutants could do.

"But why would Magneto want her?" I voiced my last thought aloud. The Professor put his hands together,

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think…I think he wants to try and utilise her powers so he can use them. Maybe via a serum. If he can harness her abilities…" he trailed off, letting the silence speak for itself. I shrugged,

"Alright, so he wants to turn humans into mutants or whatever. I don't really care," I confessed bluntly, "I just want my sister back." The Professor's mouth tilted up into a smile,

"Well, I can help with that at least," he looked at his watch, "but it's too late now. Stay the night, and we'll go after her first thing in the morning." I wanted to protest, but a look from him made me hold my tongue, and I just nodded sullenly.

"Ok," I muttered under my breath.

"Excellent," the Professor began to move away, "do you have anyone you need to call?"

"I'll just leave a message," I replied, "my aunt won't mind where I stay the night." I tried to hide the sullen tone to my voice, but it seemed like nothing escaped this man's notice as he hesitated briefly. Thankfully, he chose not to comment on the matter, and we took the lift back up to the main building.

He was right, and night was well and truly falling, and halls were lit up by a multitude of chandeliers. I couldn't help but wonder how long we'd been underground. We came across Hank down the corridor, and the Professor asked him to show me to one of their spare bedrooms. We crossed paths with a few other people, varying in age from 11 to their early 20s. One of them, a teenage girl with pure white hair smiled at me as she passed by, talking to a boy in red glasses.

The room Hank showed me to was nice and spacious, full furnished with a bed, a chest of drawers, and a desk. And there was a bathroom just down the hall. I glanced up at Hank,

"So this place is a school for mutants?" He smiled and half-shrugged,

"We advertise as a school for gifted youngsters, but essentially…yes, it's a school for mutants. The only difference between us and any other boarding school is that we teach students how to control their powers." I nodded appreciatively – this sounded like a good place for young mutants, and I was surprised I'd never heard of it before. Bella would love it here. My face fell. "Are you…are you hungry?" Hank ventured. I shook my head, flashing him a brief smile,

"No, I'm fine thanks. Think I'll go straight to bed." He nodded in understanding,

"There are some spare pyjamas in the top drawer," he pointed, "and I'm the last room on the right if you need anything." I murmured my thanks, and he bowed out a little awkwardly, and I decided I liked him.

I waited until I was sure he was gone before using the phone next to the bed to call home. As expected, no-one picked up, so I just left a message telling my aunt Bella and I were staying at a friend's house. Then I hung up. Part of me resented the fact that the aunt who was supposed to be our guardian spent most of her time out of the house, working through the day and drinking through the night. Bella and I only really saw her on the weekends, and even then she normally kept to her room and left as soon as evening fell. Then again, it could be worse – she wasn't a violent drunk, and most of the time we lived together in reasonable harmony.

Afterwards I sat on the bed and weighed up my options. I couldn't stay here. As kind as the Professor was, and as generous as he was being, I would not be able to sleep in good conscience while Bella was still out there in Magneto's clutches. And if the Professor was right and he was trying to use her powers, then she was probably getting hurt. A soft growl left my throat at the thought – I didn't care who he was or what he was trying to do, but _no-one _hurt my sunshine and got away unscathed.

So I had to leave, but how? I peered out the window which looked out onto the driveway and Peter's car was still there. Maybe I could 'borrow' it and find the nearest train station to take me to Maine – I'd had a few driving lessons, but I didn't trust myself to drive across states. Besides, the train would be faster. I looked in my wallet. I only had about $5 in notes, which wouldn't be nearly enough for a ticket to Maine. I could sneak aboard in fox form, but I rather wanted to keep my clothes on. My fingers snagged on my credit card and I pulled it out – it had been a gift for my 16th birthday, but I'd never used it. I suppose now was as good a time as ever – I just had to remember my pin. I think it was…

A knock on the door broke me from my thoughts, and I looked up in surprise. Rather than calling for whoever it was to come in, I went over and opened the door myself. To my surprise, it was Peter, holding a plate of food in one hand and a bottle of coke in the other.

"I thought you might be hungry so I brought food," he told me, not waiting for me to invite him in before he entered. I huffed in annoyance.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry," I told him simply, not moving from the door. He put the food down on the chest of drawers and looked around in interest. He was a curious sort – how was it that to him everything seemed fascinating and yet boring at the same time? I left the door open and crossed back over to the bed. "I'm tired. I need to sleep," I lied. Peter gave me a look of amusement,

"No you're not, you're planning on going after your sister tonight." I blinked at him in surprise, my mouth falling half open. I started to protest, but he only gave me that look again and I realised that, despite his apparently vacant nature, he was actually very astute.

"Are you going to stop me?" I muttered thickly, really hoping that he'd say no. To my surprise, he did.

"Nope," he replied, looking out the window before moving back to the chest of drawers – did this guy ever stay still?

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I would do the same for my sister," he told me with a non-committal shrug, though I detected traces of sincerity in his voice. I studied him for a moment – maybe I'd misjudged him. Then he looked up at me with a stupid grin, "but if you go on your own you're gonna get your ass kicked…again." I rolled my eyes,

"I'll take my chances."

"You could die," Peter pointed out bluntly.

"I'll try not to," I snapped back, fast becoming annoyed with him. I wish he'd just leave and let me conserve my energy so that when I went after Bella I actually stood a chance to save her from Magneto. The silver-haired mutant grunted, then his lips thinned,

"You don't know what this guy's capable of," he murmured ominously.

"I don't care," I lied, "he took my sister, and I'm going to get her back." In truth, I was fully aware of my own lack of experience and combat training – if I went up against Magneto again he probably would kill me. But if I could just get Bella free and then distract him long enough for her to get away…surely that would make my death meaningful? I pulled a face to myself. Who was I kidding – I wasn't a hero. Sure, I wanted to save Bella and probably would protect her with my life, but the chances were I wouldn't even get that far. I was weak and young and stupid. I put my head in between my knees, trying to hold back my tears of anger and distress.

"I could help you, you know…if you let me," I felt the bed sink slightly as I was joined by Peter, though he kept himself at a respectable distance.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt," I confessed, my voice wavering, "I just want Bella. I don't care who Magneto is or what he's done…I just want Bella."

"You really love her, don't you?" he murmured softly. I looked up at him, tears trickling down my cheeks.

"More than anything," I whispered, "she's…she's my sunshine." I closed my eyes and started to cry harder. There was a zipping noise, and when I opened my eyes he was holding out a box of tissues, looking sympathetic and a little awkward. I took a few tissues and blew my nose, wiping away my tears. I didn't like crying, especially in front of strangers, but at the moment the only thing I cared about was Bella – besides, Peter had already seen me naked. I blushed violently at the memory.

"How old are you?" Peter asked out of the blue. I blew my nose again and glanced at him,

"17. How old are you?"

"21," he replied with a boyish grin. I frowned – he didn't look or act like he was 21, he seemed more like a teenager who still behaved like a 5 year old. "How come you're never in school?"

"I'm home-schooled," I told him, "and aren't you too old for school anyway?" He shrugged,

"I volunteer as a sports coach during the summer." That surprised me.

"You volunteer?" I echoed dubiously. He nodded,

"Yeah," he grinned, "in case you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of a good runner." I pretended to ignore his last comment, looking down at my socks and hoping he would get the message. Once again, he didn't. "So why home-schooled?"

"High School life wasn't for me," I mumbled, "too many people…I learn better on my own." Peter grunted,

"Fair enough." He still wasn't leaving, so I looked him square in the eye.

"Why are you here?" I demanded.

"Because, nearly 22 years ago, my mum met this guy…" he began but I didn't let him go any further.

"No, why are you _here_ here?" I clarified. He gave me a look,

"Yeah, that makes more sense." I wanted to hit him.

"You know what I mean," I muttered.

"If I leave you alone you'll run off and probably get yourself killed," he flopped onto his back, his silver hair splaying behind him. I frowned at him, and wanted to ask why he cared, but I knew I'd only get a smart-aleck reply. Also, most people didn't let others walk to their deaths. I tried a different approach,

"Who are you to say what I should do?" He threw his hands up,

"No-one. I'm just a kid from Washington D.C. with cool hair and impeccable music taste," he beamed in pride, "and I'm almost faster than you'll ever be." The veiled threat to his words didn't escape my notice, and I bristled in anger. I got up and went over to the door, holding it wide open.

"I think you should leave now," I said coldly, refusing to meet his gaze. I could tell he meant well, but he was being so annoying and blunt about it…I could only stand so much. Peter sighed theatrically, then in a blink of an eye he was right in front of me, his face inches from mine. He wasn't especially tall, but he was still larger than me, his chin about level with my forehead. I flinched at our sudden proximity and tried to move back but only ended up bumping into the door. He chuckled,

"Don't go doing anything stupid, hot stuff," he tapped my nose in an almost fond gesture, but then he was gone. I shut the door, fuming. He was infuriating – happy-go-lucky one moment and all mysterious the next. My respect for Wanda and his mother had risen several levels. I would not like to live with a guy like him.

I returned to the bed, wondering how best to pass the time until everyone had gone to bed. Deciding I might as well grab some shut eye while I could, I set the alarm on my watch, and curled up into a foetal position.

"I'm coming for you, Bella," I whispered.

* * *

**Another long chapter - I feel I should warn you, they won't all be this long. Did I do the Professor justice? Any constructive criticism? Is Miranda realistic enough? I value each and every one of your thoughts and opinions, so please don't hold back. **

**Your humble author,**

**Magic**


	5. Chapter 5

**You guys are the best, seriously. And a special thank you to 'Guest' - your review made me so happy I nearly imploded with joy. Reviews like yours make writing so worthwhile and fulfilling and a truly enjoyable experience - thank you.**

**Here's the next chapter...enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5

_The cat is out of the bag_

* * *

I stared up at the timetables above me. How was I supposed to make heads or tails of this? I'd tried to ask one of the station staff how best to get to Maine, but they told me unless I wanted to spend a whole day on a train then I was better off to fly or drive. I couldn't help but grumble under my breath – the English trains were so much more orderly and efficient.

"I'd take the plane," came a voice from behind me, making me jumped. I whirled around to find Peter standing, watching me with his hands shoved into his pockets, a knowing grin on his face. I scowled,

"Why did you follow me?" He shrugged,

"Because someone's got to watch your back."

"I didn't ask for your help," I pointed out, looking around to see if there were any toilets I could escape into.

"I'm not offering, I'm giving," he retorted, rocking back on his heels. I gave him an exasperated look,

"Why are you so desperate to help me?"

"I told you. I'd do the same if someone took Wanda, only I wouldn't be stupid enough to go without backup…especially against a guy like Magneto," he looked around the train station absently, spotted a donut stand, and a moment later he was eating one. I frowned – so he was a petty thief too.

"Thank you, but I prefer to work alone," I told him, pointedly turning my back on him. He didn't take the hint. He actually came over and leaned on my shoulder, shoving the donut into his mouth. I didn't try and hide my look of disgust.

"Well, if you get the train you'll have to change a dozen times and won't get there until tomorrow night. By car you're looking at 6 hours…minimum. But if you flew, you could get there in, say…3 hours?" I brushed him off my shoulder none too gently,

"I don't have my passport." He finished his donut and licked his fingers,

"So? Most people don't have passports. And that's never stopped me."

"I'm not like you," I growled. I honestly expected more from a young man of his talents – he could go so far in the world, literally, and yet he was still living with his mother and spending his days exploring abandoned warehouses and stealing food. It was slightly pathetic.

"I know you're not, I have cooler hair for a start," he quipped with a wink, but I ignored him. "Seriously though, you'll get to Bella quicker with my help." I closed my eyes. As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point – his methods would be quicker, though probably a lot less legal. But…Bella. I nodded stiffly,

"Fine," I muttered, "but I don't understand you."

"Not a lot of people do, hot stuff," he shrugged, "but I'm a helpful guy." He held out his hand, "come on, quickest way to the airport is by taxi." I looked at his hand, then pointedly refused to take it. He sighed and turned it into a thumbs up, "ok then, prissy, let's go."

* * *

We took a taxi to La Guardia airport and found the next flight to Augusta, Maine. Unfortunately, we had an hour to kill, so Peter took me to one of the all-night restaurants and made me eat something, given that all I'd had for the past 24 hours was some water, a bar of chocolate, and cold casserole. I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, just to spite him. Though, in my defence it was a very nice and very large rump of steak, and the animal in me was very satisfied with such a meal.

Afterwards, I begrudgingly thanked him, to which he only replied with a wide, goofy smile. I kept my silence after that, not wanting to engage him in any further riveting conversation. He had annoyed me enough already, and I didn't want to give him an excuse to irritate me a bit more.

We went to the flight lounge where there were only a handful of other passengers waiting, and it didn't look like the flight would be too crowded. On the one hand that was a good thing because it meant less people, and I hated crowds. On the other hand, I still hated flying. But I didn't tell Peter that because he had enough ammunition to use against me.

"Do you wanna fly first or second class?" he asked me surreptitiously while we were waiting to board. I still hadn't worked out how he was going to get us on. I looked at him,

"Does it matter?" an idea dawned on me, "you're not going to steal someone else's tickets, are you?" He just winked. A second later he produced two first class tickets out of thin air. He held one out to me,

"Madam," I didn't take it.

"Did you steal that?" I accused.

"Does it matter?" he childishly echoed my words, then rolled his eyes, "do you want to save your sister or not?" Anger flashed in my eyes and I nearly slapped him, but he took the warning and held his hands aloft in defeat. "I'll give them back as soon as we're on board." I pursed my lips but said nothing.

When they finally opened the gates people began to gather their things and move towards the entrance, and Peter pulled me to my feet. He put a hand to the back of my neck, holding it in place like it was some sort of support.

"What are you doing?" I muttered to him, trying to pull away. He held me firm,

"Holding your neck so you don't get whip-lash." I frowned,

"What?"

"Whip-laaash," he drew out both words as if I was an idiot, and I wanted to hit him but then everything happened at once. First we were still and then we were moving and then suddenly we were on a plane, seated in two empty seats as people shuffled around us. No-one seemed to have noticed that we had suddenly appeared. Nausea welled within me and I thought I was going to be sick. I leaned forward.

"Please don't throw up, I spent a lot on that steak," Peter commented absently, twiddling his thumbs and not looking at all concerned for my wellbeing.

"Go to hell," I muttered under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut as I struggled to keep my dinner down. It took a few moments, but finally I felt well enough to sit up, and Peter glanced at me from the corner of his eye, his mouth twitching slightly. I didn't rise to the bait and stared straight ahead.

Because we were in first class the seating was nice and spacious and there weren't many other passengers joining us, so that at least gave us some form of anonymity. If we played our cards right we could pass off for two rich kids visiting wealthy relatives, or something. Only we didn't look a thing like each other.

I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep as the plane filled up and then the doors closed. The stewardesses went through the safety procedures and then we were coasting along the tarmac, picking up speed. I gripped my chair handles tightly.

"Nervous flier, eh?" Peter teased gently. I kept my eyes closed.

"Please shut up," I practically squeaked as we lurched into the air and my sensitive ears popped at the sudden change. I didn't relax until we'd finally levelled out and the seatbelt sign had been turned off. I let out a sigh of relief. Peter laughed. My hand itched to hit him, but I held back – though I knew it was only a matter of time before I snapped.

I was dozing peacefully when this insistent noise began playing in my ear. I turned to find that Peter had clip-on headphones and was bobbing his head along to whatever music he was listening to. I tapped his arm to get his attention, and he took one out,

"Can you turn it down, please? I'm trying to sleep." He looked as if I'd asked him to kick puppy,

"But it's Pink Floyd!" he exclaimed theatrically.

"I don't care," I told him, even though I did kind of like Pink Floyd, "I'm trying to sleep." He grumbled but obligingly turned the music down. I had just settled down again when I heard him mutter,

"I don't suppose you do care, I mean, who listens to Elton John?" I sat up and turned to face him,

"I beg your pardon?" I said icily. He gave me a look of feigned innocence,

"Who, me? I didn't say anything." I growled low in my throat,

"Elton John is the greatest pop artist and composer of our time, and I won't hear a word heard against him." There were few things in life I was really passionate about, but Elton John was one of them. Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboys was my favourite album of all time, and the 'Your Song' was both poignant and beautiful. And I was not going to back down on this one. Peter scoffed,

"Come on, have you _seen_ his glasses? And his outfits…they're ridiculous!"

"You can't judge someone's musical ability by what they wear," I argued.

"His music's bad too," Peter shrugged, "I mean, it's all piano and confusing lyrics…what kind of a title is 'Grey Seal' anyway?"

"It was inspired," I protested, "and what kind of name is 'Pink Floyd'?"

"It's a better name than Elton John," Peter shot back, "that's not even his real name."

"It doesn't matter what his real name is or what he titles his songs, the point is he is a wonderfully talented musician and he's also a great showman. He makes great music with inspiring lyrics, and I refuse to argue with you on this." Peter gave me a look of amusement as I spun completely away from him, showing him my back to tell him the conversation was done. There was a moment of silence,

"He's also a poofta." I whirled around – this time I really was going to hit him, but before I could even raise a hand he was gone in a breath of air. I growled to myself and stole his pillow to add extra comfort to my slumber. I was being childish, I know, but sometimes the only way to beat an idiot is to take them on in their own game. Though it wasn't a game I wanted to win. I just wanted Bella.

Feeling tears prick my eyes, I shut them tight, and let the gentle hum of the plane engine rock me to sleep.

* * *

"Are you still mad at me?" I looked up from my $2 copy of 'Grimm's Fairy Tales' I'd bought at Augusta airport,

"What?" Peter glanced at me from where he sat in the driving seat, flying down the highway in a rental car which he had 'borrowed'. It was nearly dawn and the sun was glowing orange on the horizon.

"Are. You. Still. Mad. At. Me?" Peter repeated really slowly. I gave him a dirty look,

"Yes," I told him bluntly, which was only a half-lie. I went back to my book.

"Why? I've got you this far, haven't I?" he insisted. I lowered the book again,

"Yes, you have, and I appreciate your help, I really do."

"I'm feeling a but…" Peter twitched a goofy smile. I decided to be frank.

"You are the most annoying person I have ever met, ok?" I told him, more sharply than I meant to. He just nodded, sticking out his lip,

"Ok," was all he said. I watched him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was going to come back with some witty remark. A minute passed and he said nothing, so I deemed it safe to return to my book. "So how am I annoying?"

I smacked myself in the face with my book and groaned audibly,

"For heaven's sake…you're 21!" He shrugged nonchalantly,

"So?"

"You're acting like a 5 year old," I chided him.

"5 year olds can't drive," he pointed out, "their legs aren't long enough to reach the pedals." I wanted to cry – from laughter or anger I didn't know, but I felt tears prick my vision. I rubbed my eyes and sniffed, focusing on my book. Peter looked at me long and hard for a moment, "jeez, am I really that bad? I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I'm not crying," I protested weakly, "it's just…I've got a lot on my plate at the moment. And the only guy who's helping me is a child in a man's body with crazy hair and too much energy." A silence greeted my words, and I sighed heavily. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"No, it's ok," he replied, surprisingly soft, "I'm sorry. I'll stop be annoying, scout's honour," he gave me a two fingered salute and a smile, which I managed to return weakly. He focused on driving and I went back to my book yet again.

A couple hours later, after a long period of extended, relaxing silence, we finally came to a small city called Skowehegan where we stopped to grab a bite and fill up the tank. I used the opportunity to relieve myself and peruse a scant cassette collection. Peter caught me reading one and gave me a look, then rolled his eyes,

"Pick one," he told me simply. I blinked in surprise,

"Seriously? You know I'll just pick Elton John," then it dawned on me, "you wouldn't steal it, would you?" Peter feigned a deeply offended look, then waved a wad of cash in my face when I didn't budge. I sighed and shrugged, "it's your dollar." I picked up a cassette that had the best picks of 'Goodbye Yellow Brick Road' and Peter added it to the sodas and crisps he'd accumulated. He paid for it all by cash, to my relief.

We got back into the car and drove to the nearest information point, then looked over a state map and tried to guess where Magneto was. From what I'd seen while in Cerebro, Bella was somewhere in the north-west area of the state, which from the looks of it was mostly comprised of forest. We looked for anywhere Magneto could use as a base, but only came up with a handful of places.

"We can try them all," Peter offered, "unless you can smell them out from him." I gave him yet another look,

"I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"Didn't think so," he quipped with a wink, and I gave him the smallest shove. "Retaliation! Now we're getting somewhere!" he crowed. I growled and hid a smile,

"Don't push your luck." We bought a map and marked the places they could possibly be, which included an abandoned chemical factory, an old dam, and a few other old facilities. Peter pointed to the nearest one and I nodded. Back in the car, he spread the map over the dashboard,

"Onwards, noble steed!" he cried to the car as he revved it to life. I turned away so he didn't get any satisfaction from my smile.

* * *

"Well they're not here," Peter called for the umpteenth time that day. I kicked a pile of rubble in sheer irritation. This was the 5th place we'd explored, and it was getting on into the afternoon…with no sign or smell of Bella or Magneto.

"We have to keep looking," I insisted, sniffing the air yet again. But all there was to the air was old chemicals and the usual scents that came with forest territory. I sighed and turned away to find Peter sitting down, "come on, we need to go _now_." I exclaimed violently, stomping away towards the car. I knew my harshness was uncalled for, but the beginnings of anxiety had long taken root in my stomach, and I knew they would grow to choke my whole body if I let Bella go un-rescued for much longer.

Peter slid into the driver's seat and started the engine without a word, and I knew I needed to apologise.

"I'm sorry…" I began, but he cut across.

"It's ok, I understand," he put a hand on my shoulder, "we'll get her back, I promise you." I looked into his eyes and in that moment I saw a flicker of something more in his eyes, something that hinted there was more to his intentions than he was letting on. He turned away before I could get a better look, and I waited until we were on the road again before venturing to ask.

"Why are you doing this, Peter?" I asked softly. He glanced at me and seemed to realise I was being serious, but it took him a moment to reply. Then he sighed,

"Did you hear about the Pentagon prison break in '73, when Magneto escaped from jail?" I nodded. It happened the year Bella and I arrived in the states, and had given us even more cause to keep our powers a secret. "Well…" Peter hesitated, "I was the one who broke him out. Not on my own, but I was asked to help…so I did." My eyes widened considerably – Peter was the one who'd unleashed Magneto on the world again? I frowned as a stray thought came to me,

"Hadn't he been put behind bars for shooting JFK?" Peter nodded,

"Yeah, but I only found that out when he was already free," he went silent for a moment, then murmured, "a lot of stuff he's done is on me."

"Why did you do it?" I asked quietly. He shrugged,

"I was bored. Then these three guys turn up at my house asking me to break into the Pentagon. Of course I said yes. Two of those guys were Hank and the Professor." I did a double take,

"Wait, the Professor asked you to break Magneto out?" Peter nodded,

"Those two have a funny history, and they needed him to stop some future disaster or something. I didn't really care, so I didn't ask." For a moment I didn't say anything, letting his words sink in. Peter had released Magneto from prison, and then Magneto had gone on to commit countless crimes…all on top of what he'd done before going to jail. And then he took my sister.

"It's not your fault," I muttered, even though I only half meant it. I couldn't hold Peter responsible for the actions of a murderer, but letting him out of prison without even finding out why he was in there…? Peter just made a small, non-committal noise and we lapsed back into silence.

I looked out of the window, watching the trees rush by. We passed by a junction, and quite by chance I took in a breath at that moment. The smell of metal was unmistakeable.

"Stop the car!" I cried, making Peter jump. He slammed on the brakes and the car had barely come to a stop before I had leapt out and run back the way we came. I sniffed urgently at the air, desperately searching for that metal scent. I found it, and something more…

My eyes widened in shock – milk and honey and…blood.

"Next time, a little warning, please? I'm not used to being the slow one," Peter joined me in a second, I held up a hand and he obediently fell silent.

"Where does this road lead?" I asked. He zipped away and came back with the map and studied it intently.

"There's nothing here except a lake," he pointed out where we were. I frowned.

"Can you check it out?" I asked, then added, "please." Peter nodded,

"How far do you want me to go?"

"As far as it takes," I told him. He just shrugged and handed me the map,

"Don't go anywhere," he said, and then he was gone.

Barely a minute had passed before he was back, and the look on his face was all I needed.

"You found her," I whispered, and it wasn't a question. He nodded grimly,

"I have, but if we're going to free her we need to work together." I swallowed and nodded,

"What do we need to do?" Peter quirked a smile,

"Well, first of all we should drive a bit further on…it's a good 3 miles that way," he pointed. I stared at him,

"You ran 3 miles in a minute?" He shrugged,

"It's no biggie," he said, heading towards the car, "come on, slow poke." I ignored the jibe and slid into the passenger seat, and soon we were bumping along the forest track.

"Did you see her?" I asked, fearing what the answer might be.

"No," he confessed, "but he's in there, so she must be too."

"You weren't seen, were you?" I ventured, my heart skipping a beat. Peter gave me a look,

"Of course not. I'm the fastest guy in the world, remember?" I snorted,

"Such modesty."

"It's true," he asserted, and I just nodded. He stopped the car a few minutes later, "we'll go on foot from here." I didn't question him. We began walking, and with each breath the scent of metal, milk and honey got stronger. But so did the smell of blood.

My pulse was racing by the time Peter called a halt, gesturing for me to take a look through the trees. I did so carefully, and immediately spotted our objective. It was an old bunker, probably leftover from some factory during the cold war. Half of it was buried in the ground, but the other half wasn't far from a lake which looked more like a reservoir. There weren't that many points of entry, and I was stumped for how we were supposed to get in and out without attracting Magneto's attention. I turned to Peter with a questioning expression, but his face was alight with a knowing smile, and his eyes were sparkling mischievously.

"Right," he beckoned me closer, "here's the plan…"

* * *

I was hiding behind a tree, waiting for Peter's signal which would signal the start of our rescue attempt. Night had almost fallen, but the darkness gave us cover, and I could see just as well in the dark as I did in the day. One of the perks of being half-animal.

I shifted where I stood, my heart beating rather fast. Peter had suggested I become a fox for the rescue, but I had adamantly refused – I wasn't getting caught out again a second time, by him or Magneto. Grudgingly, the speedster accepted this and altered his 'master plan' accordingly.

Then I heard it – something heavy banging on metal. It was loud and annoying, and sounded like the kind of noise a gang of boys would make if they found a metal barrel. I fixed my eyes on the bunker's main door, watching and waiting.

Sure enough, it opened slowly and Magneto stepped out, tensed and ready to fight. He had a slim helmet on and was dressed in dark clothing, and he didn't seem to want to venture far from the door. He was only a few feet away when the banging stopped abruptly and he turned.

There was a breath of air and Peter appeared before me, dressed in a silver jacket and slacks, with goggles over his eyes. He looked ridiculous. I didn't have time to laugh as he put a finger to his lips and gestured for me to get on his back. As we agreed, I got on with minimum fuss and closed my eyes.

He moved as swift and straight as an arrow, reaching the bunker door before Magneto had even finished turning around. And then we were in. He didn't stop until we were out of sight of the door, and then he set me down and held me, making sure I wasn't going to throw up. I felt nauseous, but not as much as last time. Maybe it was possible to get used to travelling at the speed of sound.

Peter waved for me to get moving and I sped off, leaving him to keep Magneto distracted. The bunker was surprisingly spacious, but the night air had a distinct chill to it that had managed to penetrate the stone walls, and I shivered. I saw some metal stairs leading down underground, and some silvery light coming from below. Without a second thought I darted to them and scurried down. I came to the bottom and stopped still.

It was a science lab. Crudely constructed and hardly functioning, but a science lab nevertheless. There were a couple of stations where something was boiling, and another was taken up by a microscope and glass slides and nothing else. A table was at the centre, and on it…

"Bella!" I cried softly, rushing to her. She was so pale and when I touched her hand her skin was cold. I felt for a pulse and for one terrible moment I couldn't find it, but then I felt the tiniest throb of life and I sighed in sheer relief. She was alive, but barely. I had to get her out of here. Overall, she looked unharmed. Her clothes were intact, if a little grubby, and her arms and legs bore no sign of ill treatment, and neither did her face. A glint of silver caught my eye and I leaned closer to her head, frowning. Something metallic was hanging off her ear, like an earring, and a similar one was on the other side. Tentatively grasping it in my fingers, I gave it a gentle pull.

Bella's eyes flew open and she screamed, her voice shrill and loud and piercing. I immediately let go, almost crying out in shock. As soon as my hold was released her eyes closed again and she resumed her apparently peaceful slumber. But I knew now just how horrible the metallic things were. They weren't just on her ear, but they actually went _in_ to it…into her brain. I swallowed down bile – Magneto had implanted metal into my sister's head. Tears pricked my eyes, but now was not the time for tears. Bella's scream would have been heard and that meant time was of the essence.

With the greatest care I scooped my sister into my arms, cradling her to me like a new born child. She was small and light and it was no big effort on my part, but I felt slightly weighed down by the knowledge that Magneto had done something terrible to her. I was halfway up the stairs when I heard shouting and the sound of flying metal. I peered over the top to try and see what was going on.

"…never even bothered to find out," Peter was yelling, and to my surprise he sounded really angry.

"I didn't _know_," cried a voice, Magneto.

"You didn't _care," _Peter practically screamed, and there was the horrific screech of metal on metal. I climbed the last few steps, holding Bella so I could shield her with my body. Magneto saw me first and his eyes widened, his hand splaying in my direction. A sheet of metal flew towards me.

"NO!" a blur of silver came from nowhere and knocked the sheet away. Peter stood between me and Magneto, staring him down angrily. I saw pain and loss in the former's gaze, grief and resentment in the latters. Somehow I felt like I'd stumbled upon some deeply personal dispute. But I didn't have time to deal with it now.

"Peter, we have to go," I called, looking down at Bella, "he's done something to her…" my voice cracked. Peter glanced at me briefly, then pointed at Magneto.

"We are leaving, _with_ Bella…and you can't stop us," he spat, and I didn't realise someone who was usually so childish and carefree could possess such a deep, roaring fury. I was kind of impressed, and just a little bit awed. He gestured for me to hand Bella over and I did without objection – right now the safest place to be was with Peter. He jerked his head for me to follow, and we started walking out the bunker. I couldn't help but glance at Magneto as we went, wondering if he was going to make a move. To my surprise, he just watched us go with an almost distressed look on his face.

"Peter," he began, his voice disturbingly weak and broken, "I…I'm…"

"Save it for someone who cares," Peter snapped, and then we were out of the bunker and in the cool night air. He kicked the door shut behind us and stormed off into the dark, leaving me to trail in his wake. I hurried after him, wanting to ask what on earth had happened but that, but something told me now wasn't the time.

One thing was certain, though – there was a lot more to Peter than what met the eye.

* * *

**BET'CHA DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING, HUH? **

**I know things are moving fast but trust me - there's a lot more to the story than a simple rescue mission, you'll see.**

**Thank you to everyone who's reviewed/followed so far...please keep them coming! They really boost my spirits and inspire me to write more.**

**Also, happy birthday to my little brother...even though he won't ever read this. It's the thought that counts.**

**Your humble author,**

**Magic**


	6. Chapter 6

**I seriously can't get over how amazing you guys are - thank you so much! All of you, you're just the best. **

**And I would draw a picture of Miranda and Bella but my talent level stops at stick men so I'm gonna save you the pain and say no. However, if any of you talented people want to draw them then I would be more than happy to promo you and link to my deviantart account! I have some stuff up there but I haven't used it for ages. **

**Anyway, here's the next chapter - bit shorter than the last ones, but stuff happens. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6

_An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth_

* * *

We drove all the way back to Westchester, stopping only once for food and fuel. I road in the back with Bella, her head on my lap as we flew down the highway. She was still unconscious, and I was too scared of what would happen if I tried to wake her. I settled for stroking her hair and humming 'you are my sunshine' under my breath. Peter didn't say a word for the entire journey.

By the time we pulled into the Professor's driveway it was mid-morning, and we'd driven through the night. I'd drifted off at some point and was jolted awake when the car came to a stop and the driver's door opened. Peter opened the opposite passenger door and made to pick Bella up, but I shot out a hand to stop him. Our eyes met and for a moment we were in stalemate, then I relented and nodded stiffly. He returned the gesture and pulled Bella gently into his arms. The front door was already open when we reached it, and a pyjama clad Hank, the Professor, and another man I hadn't seen before were waiting. Hank immediately rushed to Bella.

"She needs medical attention," Peter muttered thickly, and the Professor gave him a long hard look before nodding. Hank took Bella into his arms, careful to support her head. I wanted to speak out, but then he looked up at me and gave me the briefest smile, and I felt reassured. He wasn't going to hurt my sister.

"I'll take her to the medical centre," he told the Professor before setting off towards the lift. I made to follow but a hand stopped me,

"That was very stupid of you to go off on your own," the Professor told me in a low voice. I swallowed and glanced at Peter,

"I wasn't alone." The silver-haired mutant met my gaze briefly, before he pushed off the wall and headed for the door.

"I'm going for a run," was all he said before he took off. I frowned.

"Let him go," the Professor told me, "tell me what happened." We walked down the hall, and I explained everything that had happened since the moment I stole away the night before. Right up until Magneto let us walk out of the bunker.

"Wait, he let you go without a fight?" the man who I'd never met spoke up, and I looked him over. He was tall and a little stocky, with close cut blond hair and a strong chin. He only had on a vest and bottoms, and his arms were muscular and tanned looking. He looked like he belonged in the military, and for all I knew, he did. I just nodded in answer to his question.

"Miranda, this is Alex Summers," the Professor introduced us, and we shook hands. "He teaches sports, and combat training."

"I also run a baking class every Friday," the blond added with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. I yawned loudly, covering my mouth.

"You must be tired, Alex can show you to your room…" the Professor began, but I was quick to object.

"No!" I blurted, then corrected myself, "I mean, yes I am tired…but I want to see Bella."

"Your sister is still unconscious," the Professor told me, "but we will fetch you the moment she wakes up." I shook my head,

"No, you don't understand…I _need_ to see her. I need to…be with her." The man in the wheelchair gave me the same long hard look he'd given Peter a moment before, then he nodded.

"Very well. Alex, would you take Miranda down to the medical centre? I have some students to put back to bed," at his words I heard a few faint gasps and the sound of scurrying feet, and I felt the ghost of a smile trace my lips. I followed Alex to the lift and we went down in silence. The medical centre wasn't that far from Cerebro, and as soon as the doors opened I rushed in.

Hank had already put Bella onto a hospital bed and covered her with a blanket, hooking her up to a machine that monitored her heart rate. The metal in her ears was untouched. I went to her and pulled her hand into mine.

"How is she?" I murmured, not looking away from her face. She looked so delicate, so fragile, my little ray of broken sunshine. I blinked back tears.

"She's stable," Hank assured me, "but until I can run some scans…I won't know what it is Magneto's done to her, or how to change it. You see these?" he pointed to the metal ear pierces and I nodded. "I think they are actually implanted in her brain, controlling her neural activity."

"How is that even possible?" Alex ventured, a frown on his face. Hank glanced at him,

"I don't know." He yawned widely, then looked extremely embarrassed, "I'm sorry…"

"It's ok," I hastened to assure him, "thank you."

"I promise I'll be more help when I'm more…conscious," he told me with a lopsided smile that was rather endearing. I nodded,

"We all need to sleep," I hesitated, "is it alright if I stay here?" I ventured quietly. Hank nodded,

"Of course, I'll make up another bed," he offered kindly.

"Are you going to be alright?" Alex asked me. I gave him a smile and inclined my head in affirmation,

"Yes, thank you." He quirked a smile, then waved a brief goodbye and was gone. Hank laid out bed sheets on one of the spare beds, even going so far as to move it closer to Bella's. I smiled at him gratefully, my eyes heavy from lack of sleep.

"I'll see you…later," Hank murmured, interrupted by another yawn. I made a noise of agreement as I crawled between the sheets, facing my sister. "Good night," Hank whispered before the doors slid shut. And then it was just me and Bella. My eyes trailed to the machine where Bella's heart rate was measure in peaks. A soft beep was emitted every time it reached the top, then there were a couple of smaller peaks, and then it started again. It was surprisingly mesmerising, and I was soon lulled into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

* * *

I came to consciousness like an anchor being dragged from the seabed, slowly making my way through the depths of a deep sleep to the land of the living. The sound of beeping and clinking metal reached my ears, and my eyes fluttered open to see Bella's face just inches from my own. I blinked, suddenly remembering all that had happened, and I reached out towards my sister.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to wake you," came a voice, and I glanced over to see Hank dressed and decked out in a lab coat and glasses. He gave me an apologetic smile, and I just stared for a moment before I registered his words and nodded, then shook my head.

"No, it's ok," I mumbled, suppressing a yawn. The look he gave me didn't need words. I pushed the hospital sheets off, swinging my legs over the side to look down on my sister's sleeping form. "How is she?" I asked, my eyes trailing up and down her body. She looked unchanged.

"Stable, and in good health," Hank replied, then he gestured to the side of the room where there was a machine built into the wall, "I'm going to run some tests before the Professor comes down to work his magic…if we can work out what Magneto's done to her, we can reverse the effects, and ideally prevent it from happening again." I nodded absently,

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ventured. Hank raised an eyebrow,

"Have you ever worked in a hospital environment before?" I chuckled drily,

"No, but I can try." He smiled,

"I could use a hand with a few things…"

Despite the fact I knew next to nothing about medical practises, Hank made me feel like an intelligent and valued aid as I helped him prepare Bella for her scan, handing him all the right equipment and helping wheel her over to the machine. She was in it for nearly 15 minutes as Hank ran every scan there was. After that, she was taken back to her original position, and I resumed my post by Bella's side while Hank went over the results. He was muttering to himself and frowning, but the look of concentration on his face deterred me from prying – no doubt he would tell me when he was ready. I only hoped that would be soon.

We were both interrupted by a light bell ring, and Hank glanced up,

"Come in," he called, and the door opened to reveal Wanda holding a tray of food. She came in with a smile, but something felt off about her, though she was doing her best to hide it. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hi," she came over to me, tray outstretched, "I thought you might be hungry so I brought you some breakfast. I didn't know what you liked so I got a bit of everything." I took the food gratefully and started nibbling on a rash of bacon, my worried state having distracted me from my hunger. Wanda moved around to Bella's side, looking down on her with a thoughtful frown. It suddenly occurred to me that Wanda knew Bella than I had originally anticipated, and the former viewed the latter as a sort of little sister. This was hurting her as much as it was hurting me.

"How is she?" she asked Hank, echoing my formal request. He repeated what he told me earlier, but then added,

"According to these scans, there's nothing wrong with her. No unusual neural activity, nothing wrong with her blood, or any major organs. The metal shows up in her scan, but other than that it seems like it's not even there. If anything, she seems to be…sleeping. But more deeply than the usual REM cycle, more like…"

"A coma," Wanda finished with a hollow voice, and my stomach flipped. Bell was in a coma? I suppose it could be worse – she could be damaged beyond repair. But comas were tricky things, and everything could turn on the spin of a hat. I swallowed thickly,

"Will she be alright?" I asked quietly. Hank looked up at me, his eyes sympathetic and honest,

"I don't know. But I will try my absolute best." I quirked a brief smile, but that was all I could manage. For a moment the three of us just watched Bella in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. The notion that Bella might not make it through crossed my mind but I was quick to shove it away – Bella was going to live…she had to.

The door chimed again and this time it was the Professor who came in, dressed in slacks and a leather jacket. He smiled politely and we exchanged morning pleasantries, but I could tell he was anxious to try and find out what Magneto had done to Bella. Wanda excused herself from the room and Hank moved away to study the scans further, but I remained by Bella's side as the Professor took up a position by my sister's head, lowering her bed to his level before placing two fingers from each hand on Bella's temples. His eyes closed.

I don't know how long we were there for. I hardly even noticed when Hank got up and left the room, mumbling about grabbing some lunch. I just waited by my sister as the Professor held her head in his hands, his forehead creased in concentration.

Finally, he let out a soft gasp and his hold released, his eyes snapping open. I sat up straight, waiting on his words with baited breath. He blinked a few times, then looked up at me,

"Would you like to talk to her?" he murmured. My eyebrows rose in surprise and I looked at Bella, almost expecting her to wake up then and there. Only she didn't. I gave the Professor a confused look. "I can link minds," he explained, "you can speak to her through this link, if you want to." I got the feeling there was something he wasn't telling me, and this was his way of letting me know the easy way. Wordlessly, I nodded, and he beckoned me forward. His right hand went to Bella's temple, and his left came to my own, and for a moment I felt the most surreal sensation of being sucked through a void, a little like Peter's running, only I was being sucked into myself. I gasped.

"Manda!" the voice was loud and familiar and so very welcome to my ears I was smiling before I'd even opened my eyes. I didn't see my surroundings, or lack of, all I saw was Bella standing in front of me, a grin on her face as she raced towards me. I reached out to hug her, but just as she reached me she passed right through as if I wasn't there, and I shivered in spite of myself. She took a step back, grimacing.

"Physical touch is not possible in such a place as this," came another voice, also familiar, and I looked around to see the Professor standing a polite distance away.

"Your…your legs!" I exclaimed. He chuckled,

"The mind is a wonderful creator of illusions," he commented almost sadly. My brow furrowed and I glanced between him and Bella,

"Wait, so this isn't real?"

"It is real," the Professor assured me, "we are simply in Bella's mind while her body remains in an unconscious state." I nodded in understanding, then looked back at my sister,

"I've missed you," I whispered, feeling tears sting my eyes. She smiled,

"I've missed you too." She and the Professor exchanged looks, and a sense of foreboding settled over me. What they had to tell me was not good, I was sure of it. Bella sat down and gestured for me to do the same, and the Professor crouched beside us both.

"What is it?" I muttered hoarsely, my voice thick.

"I cannot remove the metal from Bella's brain without risking her life," the Professor began simply, "and even if I am successful the chances are she will be left with a life-long disability…like mine. The metal is keeping her in an induced coma, and as long as her body is kept alive and healthy, she should survive without a problem." I blinked and it took me a moment to register his words,

"So…so you're saying…what are you saying?" The Professor gave me a look of sympathy,

"I can't fix Bella," he told me simply. I shook my head,

"No, of course you can, you're the Professor…you can do anything!" I babbled. Bella reached out to me, her hand brushing over my knee with the touch of a ghost,

"It's ok, Manda," she soothed. I shook my head again,

"No…no!" I looked back at the Professor, pleading with my eyes, "you have to save her…you have to! Please, I'll do anything." The man glanced down, a mixture of shame and regret on his face,

"I'm sorry, Miranda. I could kill her and I'm just…not willing to take that risk. I can't do it." My mouth fell open and I gaped slightly for a moment, trying to process everything. If the Professor couldn't cure Bella then what was to become of her? Would she stay as she was in coma…forever? Perish the thought.

"There has to be a way," I muttered, "maybe someone…" my eyes widened, "Magneto! We should find him and force him to take the metal out, he put it in her in the first place…he can take it out!" The Professor winced,

"That is a possibility…" he hesitated for a moment, "but I have no idea where Erik is, and no means of locating him. And he will not come without a fight, and in the unlikely event that he does I doubt he'd willingly cure your sister. She's more beneficial to him in her current state."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I practically spat.

"He wants to use my blood to make a serum that will turn normal humans into mutants," Bella began, "if I'm conscious I can resist. But if I'm unconscious…" she let the statement hang, and I understood. I swallowed, fighting the urge to cry from sheer frustration.

"I'll find him," I murmured under my breath, "I'll find him and I'll bring him back here and I'll _make_ him take the metal out."

"Manda…"

"No, Bella!" I was nearly shouting, "I will _not _let that bastard take you from me! You are all I have left! You are…" I choked, "you are my sunshine!" The look Bella gave me made me feel as if our positions were reversed, that it was her who was the protective sister and I the sick one. I didn't like it. "I swear to you, Bella," I locked gaze with her, "I will make you better."

"Manda, it's ok, really," my sister started again, but I shook my head viciously.

"No, it's not," I replied, then gave the Professor an expectant look. He seemed to understand and reluctantly nodded. "I'll be back, Bella," I told her, "I love you." She smiled a small, sad smile,

"I love you too." And then I was back in my body, my real physical body, and when I opened my eyes the tears were already starting to fall. I pulled away from the Professor, sobs building in my chest. He didn't try to stop me as I stumbled away and out of the medical room, nearly colliding with Hank on his way back. The lift trip up was agonising and I was practically gasping as the doors opened and I leapt from the metal confinements, heading for the front door. I threw it open and finally let my body do the one thing it had been wanting to do for a long time.

I ran.

* * *

I didn't stop until I came to a lake, nearly a mile from the mansion and well away from anyone else. There was a willow tree on the bank and I fell into a heap by the gnarled roots, giving in to the grief that racked my body. I cried so hard I struggled to breathe, but when I paused to take a breath I would only cry harder.

And to be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure what I was crying for.

Maybe I was crying for Bella, for the fact that she might never see or hear or walk again. Maybe I was crying for myself, for the fact that I might be on the verge of losing the last thing on earth I held most dear. Maybe I was crying for the fact that my father, who I hadn't mourned for in so long, wasn't here to comfort me or offer me the strength I sorely needed.

Or maybe I was crying because I could.

I didn't care.

I just cried.

Someone came and sat down beside me, but I didn't even look up. Somehow, I just knew who it was, even before I caught the whiff of peppermint and body sweat. An arm was thrown around my shoulder and it was such a casual, warming gesture that I bawled a bit more, letting myself fall against the person, feeling their arm tighten around me and their body warmth next to mine.

We sat there for a while as I cried every last tear from my body, weeping until I could weep no more. When I finally raised my head I was greeted with a packet of tissues, and I gratefully took them, wiping my eyes and blowing my nose and hiccupping gently to myself.

"I'm sorry," came a voice, unusually calm and soft. I blinked in confusion, looking up at them.

"Why?" was all I asked. Peter's eyes were so warm and sincere, I couldn't help but question how I had ever found him annoying. He seemed too…genuine.

"Wanda told me about Bella," he murmured absently, then added, "and…I'm sorry we didn't reach her sooner." I pulled a face,

"I don't know if that would have mattered or not," I muttered darkly.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Me too," I sighed, "and thank you." He gave me an inquisitive look,

"For what?"

"For…" I thought for a moment, "everything." He smiled,

"You are very welcome," he chirruped with his usual brightness. I looked away, sensing that he was returning to his usual, happy-go-lucky, annoying self. I didn't know if I could deal with that now. Thankfully, he seemed to realise this and kept his mouth shut, and for a moment we sat in companionable silence.

"I'm going to kill him," I blurted without warning. I surprised even myself. Several seconds passed and Peter didn't say anything, then,

"I don't think that's a good idea," his voice was so low I hardly heard him. I frowned,

"I'll get him to take the metal out of Bella, and then I'll kill him. Maybe. At the very least I will make him suffer…a lot."

"Hasn't he suffered enough already?" Peter muttered cynically, and I gave him a look on confusion and mild disgust.

"What? Do you have any idea-?" I began, but I was abruptly cut off.

"Yes, I do have an idea, actually," Peter got to his feet without warning, and I felt the loss of physical contact like a douse of cold water. He turned to me, and to my complete shock he was practically glaring, as if I had offended him, "I know _exactly_ who he is and what he's been through and what he's capable of. But no matter how many times he's fucked up…he does _not_ deserve to suffer." I shook my head in disbelief – where was this all coming from?

"The punishment should fit the crime," I rattled off, watching him carefully. He snorted,

"That's bullshit and you know it," he retorted. I looked at him a moment longer before I got to my feet, facing him, reaching the end of my tether.

"No, actually. I don't know it," I snapped, "I have no bloody idea what the hell you are going on about or where this new attitude has materialised from, but what I do know is that I am going to make Magneto pay for what he's done to my sister." Peter laughed drily, shaking his head,

"You don't stand a chance against him. You never have and you never will."

"I don't give a damn what you think about my chances. I'll take them," I turned and stalked off, a whole potion of emotions frothing within me. Suddenly, he was there beside me, stopping me from going any further with a hand on my arm,

"You don't know what you're doing," he muttered. I smiled viciously,

"Actually, I do," I looked at him, wondering at his rapid change in opinions, "and what the hell happened to the guy who was ready to hunt down Magneto by my side?!"

"That was for Bella. You have her back," Peter pointed out. I shook my head,

"We have her body, but he's trapped her in her mind and I want _all_ of her back. I don't want her living the rest of her life attached to some machine. I don't want to live without hearing her laugh again, or see her smile, or even hug her. I need Magneto to take the metal out of her body, and he will," I finished with an iron-like finality.

"You don't know him," Peter muttered ominously.

"Oh, and you do?" I shot back.

"Better than you know," came his unnerving reply. I looked at him long and hard for a moment, then my lips thinned and my jaw stiffened,

"I don't know what happened back at the bunker, but that's between you and him…not me. I don't need any more complications in my life, thank you very much. So either help me find that son of a bitch and get my sister back for good, or stay out of my way." I wrenched my arm free from his grasp and strode away again, anger and hurt and confusion and all manner of feelings clambering for my attention. I felt more tears prick my eyes but I rubbed them away – I was done crying for the day.

"If you go after him on your own he will kill you," Peter called after my retreating form.

I pretended not to hear him.

I had a criminal to catch.

* * *

**Ok, so that just...happened. What do we think? Poor Miranda. All those feels. I have my own idea for how Peter found out who Magneto really was...but I'd love to know what you guys think too! And is it wrong I'm feeling a Hank/Wanda friendship/(possible)future romance...?! I dunno man, these characters just write themselves, to be honest.**

**Also, I have a question - how many of you watch Once Upon A Time? I'm writing a fic for it but haven't posted it yet because I don't know if it will take hold or not - all I'll say is that it involves Peter Pan in all his sexy, sinister glory, a few OCs, maybe some smut, and a whole lot of magical drama. Interested? Add me on author alert and maybe you'll be in for a new treat!**

**You see that box below? Write something! Good things will happen...I promise.**

**Best wishes,**

**Magic**


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